Fighting Gravity
by irisheyes77
Summary: John Noble and Rose Tyler were best friends. Until one day, they weren't. AU/high school
1. Chapter 1

Rose Tyler, age seven, ducked through the hole in the fence between her yard and the neighbors, and found her two best friends-John, eight and Donna, nearly ten-sitting on the back porch. John had his Lego sets spread out around him, and was busily building while his sister read nearby.

"Hey," Rose said, sitting down next to John. "What're you makin'?"

"A time machine." He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Well, it's more than that. It's also a spaceship."

"Oh yeah?" Rose scrutinized the rectangular blue box. "Looks like a blue box. A small blue box."

"Bigger on the inside." With intense concentration, he finished his blue time machine, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. "It's called a TARDIS."

"TARDIS?"

"Time and Relative Dimension in Space." Donna gave a derisive snort, and he threw a Lego at her. "Just because you have no imagination doesn't mean that you can make fun of me for mine."

"And who flies this thing?"

"I do. I'm called The Doctor." John looked up with a big grin. "And you, Rose Tyler, are my companion."

"I am, am I?" Rose grinned right back. "Where's this thing gonna take us?"

"Anywhere or anywhen you want! How does New Earth in the year five billion and twenty-three sound? New New York?"

"What happened to regular old New York?"

"Gone." He stood and grabbed her hand. "Come on, Rose! We have to visit the hospital in New New York. Did you know that the hospital was run by cat nuns?"

"Cat nuns?" Rose laughed as he pulled her out into the yard.

"In wimples! They desperately need our help!"

"You're mental!"

"We have to save them!" He grinned at her. "Let's go!"

* * *

They lay on their backs in Rose's backyard, staring up at the night sky.

"That's Orion," he said, "and that one is Ursa Major."

Rose squinted, trying desperately to see the constellations he was pointing out to her. "Okay."

"And that one is Pegasus..." He looked over to see her frowning in concentration. "What's the matter?"

"I know you say these constellations make a picture that tells a story, but I...I just can't seem to see them."

He scooted closer to her on the grass, so that their heads were touching, and took her hand in his and lifted them up. "Follow my finger, okay?" He began to connect the stars with their fingers. "That's Andromeda. She's chained to a rock."

Rose could kind of make out the shape. "Why's she chained to a rock?"

"Because her mum, Cassiopoeia," he moved their finger and traced another constellation, "said that Andromeda was more beautiful than than the sea nymphs, so Poseidon had her chained to a rock as punishment for Cassiopoeia's arrogance."

"Seems kind of harsh."

"It's Greek mythology, Rose. Not exactly the nicest people, the Greek gods."

She laughed as their hands dropped down to their sides, still entwined. "Where'd you learn all this?"

"Gramps." He grinned at her. "But we're not allowed to tell my mum I know all these stories, she thinks they're all full of sex and violence. 'He's only eleven, Dad!'" John did a fair impression of his mother, and Rose laughed.

"Oh. Are they?"

"Yep." He popped the 'p'. "They're like the _East Enders_ of ancient Greece."

Rose laughed. "I can't imagine my mum watching a show where a girl gets chained to a rock because her mum said she was prettier than the other girls."

"Clearly you haven't seen the American dramas my sister seems to enjoy."

"Oh, I have. Your Greek myths are much more interesting."

"Here's one I think you'll like." Taking her hand again, he traced a constellation with their fingers. "Corona Borealis. Ariadne was the daughter of the king of Crete, and had commanded a sacrifice to the minotaur in the labyrinth-that was Theseus. Ariadne fell in love with him, and gave him a golden thread to help him find his way out of the maze. Of course, Theseus was a jerk and dumped her."

"After she helped him?" Rose huffed. "Tosser."

"It's okay, though, because in the end she married Dionysius, who was the god of wine and the harvest, and he put her crown in the sky."

"She showed him."

"She did."

Jackie's voice carried out into the backyard, calling Rose in for bed. With a sigh, she sat up. "See you tomorrow?"

"Of course." John stood and pulled her up by the hand. "Goodnight, fair Ariadne."

"If I'm Ariadne, who are you? Theseus or Dionysus?" she asked, giving him a smile.

He laughed. "You're not Ariadne...you're more of a Hero."

"Who's she?" Jackie's voice called out again, and Rose rolled her eyes. "Tell me tomorrow, yeah?"

He watched as she ran into the house, turning and waving at him before disappearing inside.

* * *

"Rose!" Her bedroom window slid open, letting in the chilly early evening air. He climbed in through the window, landing with a very undignified _thud_.

"You'd think you'd learn to come in through the window without landing on your bum," she replied with a cheeky smile, turning back to her homework.

"Oi!" John gave her a look. At twelve, he was tall and gangly, all elbows and knees and sticky-up hair. "Come see what Granddad got me!"

"Gotta finish my maths first."

With a dramatic sigh, he picked up her pencil and finished her homework before she could say a word. "There. Come on!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her chair.

"How am I supposed to learn if you do it for me?" she replied, hoisting herself out the window and into the tree. "If I fail my class, I'll tell them it's because you were always doing my homework for me." She shimmied down the tree and stood, waiting for him.

With much more grace than before, he climbed down and landed on both feet, grinning manically. "You won't fail, you're brilliant!" John grabbed her hand and they ran through the yard to the hole in the fence between their houses, stopping at what appeared to be a rocket.

"Is that…a rocket?"

"Yep," John popped the 'p' as he always did. "Granddad got me a kit for my birthday. Wanna give it a go?"

"You're mental!" Donna's voice called from the back porch.

"You mean it works?" Rose asked.

"Sure! What's the point of a rocket if it doesn't work?" He picked up a box with a large red button on it. "Shall we?"

"You are mental," she replied with a grin. "Let's do it."

With a flourish, John hit the button. The rocket began to spew smoke from the bottom, and a moment later it soared into the air with a great roar.

"I don't suppose it occurred to you that this rocket will eventually come down," Donna called to them.

John and Rose turned to look at each other. "Shit!"

There was the distinct sound of metal on metal and breaking glass, and a car alarm began droning. A moment later a voice cried out, "John Noble, wait until I call your mother!"

Donna smirked at her brother. "She's got Mum on speed dial."

John and Rose took one look at each other and burst into hysterical laughter. Grabbing Rose's hand, John tugged her towards her own house. "Run!"


	2. Teenage Hormones

Rose looked out her bedroom window, book in hand, nonchalantly pretending to read. Next door, John was tinkering with the lawnmower, a line of sweat down his back turning the light blue material of his shirt dark. She watched as he stood and shouted obscenities at the machine, kicking it for good measure, laughing at his yelp of surprise when the machine buzzed to life.

Rose watched him with definite interest. She had no idea when she'd begun to find him attractive in a way that made her insides ache, but there was no denying that she did. Rose found herself daydreaming about him quite a bit lately-how his mouth would feel against hers, how his hands would feel on her newly-formed breasts.

She watched as he removed his shirt, her eyes taking in the smooth planes of his chest, the smattering of hair that began at his navel and disappeared below the waist of his shorts. Rose felt a rush of desire fill her, and she chided herself-this was _her best friend_, she had no business imagining what he looked like underneath his clothes!

Her hormones disagreed.

She watched as he mowed, wishing that he'd look at her the way she saw him look at other girls; he tried to hide it, he was so sweet that way, but she had seen the way he'd look at and flirt with pretty girls; he never had a shortage of girls hanging about, calling him. It hadn't bothered her until recently, until she'd noticed how good-looking he was, with his infectious smile and his really, _really_ great hair.

John stopped mowing at looked up, his face breaking out into a grin when he saw Rose in her window. He motioned for her to open the window. "Fancy an ice cream?"

"You buyin'?"

"Might do."

She grinned at him. "Come get me when you're cleaned up."

"Are you implying that I'm dirty, Rose Tyler?" His voice was loaded with innuendo.

Rose paused, then decided to play along."Might be."

He grinned. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

"Oh you have no idea," she whispered to herself, then shot him a look. "Just…go clean up so you can buy me an ice cream." She moved from the window, then turned back to shout at him. "Wanker!"

* * *

Rose lay sprawled on Donna's bed, paging through a Mills and Boone books she'd found under the bed. "I can't believe you read this stuff."

"Why not?" Donna flipped the page of her magazine. "Got to have a little something for the imagination." She gave Rose a cheeky grin.

"You never!" Rose laughed, flushing slightly.

"Oh come off it! Everyone does it." Donna took in Rose's expression, and howled with laughter, dropping her magazine. "Or maybe everyone but you! You mean you never…" she gestured wildly with her hands.

"No!" Rose was bright red now, embarrassed to be speaking to Donna about something so personal. "I mean…not that I haven't thought about it but…I've got no idea what I'm doing!" Rose buried her head under a pillow. "This is mortifying."

"How do you think you find out what you like if you never…figure it out for yourself?" Donna pulled the pillow off of her friend's head. "And if you don't know what you like, how can you tell someone else?"

Rose squeaked with embarrassment.

"Rose." Donna grabbed her arm and rolled her over. "Has your mum taught you nothing?"

"I know about…the mechanics of it." Rose laughed. "You know, babies and all. But like…what it's like? What I'm supposed to like? What I'm supposed to do? No clue."

Donna thumped her with the book. "And that, my dear, is where these come in."

"What, like a manual?"

"No, but it gives you a…general idea. What blokes like, what you might like."

Rose looked at her friend and grinned. "Speaking from experience?" Donna gave her a look, and Rose began to laugh. "You are! Oh my God, Donna! You have to tell me!"

Shooting Rose a look, Donna got up and checked the hallway before closing her bedroom door. "What do you want to know?"

"Are their…you know…really as funny looking as I think?" Rose blurted the question out.

"Oh yes." Donna chuckled. "They're all…just _there_until they get stiff and then-well, if you're lucky-they're bigger but that's a whole different issue." She thought a moment. "Really, they're quite stupid looking. Imagine having all your bits outside where one wrong move and _wham!_"

Rose laughed and flipped through the book until she found what she was looking for. "Okay, this. You've done this?"

Donna read. "Yep."

"But isn't it…odd?"

"Only the first time."

Rose flipped a page. "Okay, how about this?"

"Yep." Donna made a face. "It's…I dunno, I've only done that twice, and I didn't much like it. Some girls really like it, my friend Poppy swears she loves it-and she _swallows_!-but I didn't care for it. Who knows, maybe it gets better?"

Rose pointed out another passage. "Okay, that?"

"Yep. And trust me, if a guy won't do that for you, you don't want him!"

"But…isn't that…weird? I mean, he's got his tongue…and…it seems like such an odd sort of thing to want to do."

"Oh no," Donna said. "Not odd at all. Bloody brilliant, that is."

Rose stopped at looked at Donna. "I haven't even had a proper snog, and you're all…experienced!"

"I'm also almost eighteen. You're fifteen. Give yourself some time, it'll happen."

She giggled. "You think your brother…you know?"

Donna burst out laughing. "I found his stash of magazines, so that's a yes."

"No!"

"Yes! Bloody idiot left them in his desk drawer, I found them when I was looking for some paper." Donna howled with laughter. "Let me tell you, I seriously considered blinding myself so I wouldn't have to look at him again after that. That skinny streak of nothing has a serious thing for blondes and breasts."

They laughed so loudly and for so long that they didn't hear the knock on the door. John stuck his head in, and when the girls caught sight of him, they exchanged a glance and began laughing again.

"What?"

They were laughing too hard to answer him.

He rolled his eyes, shutting the door as he walked away. They only laughed harder.

* * *

The walk to the neighborhood pool was not too terribly long, which Rose considered a mercy on a day like this. Barely eleven in the morning, and already the heat was causing the asphalt to give off wavy lines, making the road look like a mirage.

"You think we could convince Mum to let us take the train out to the beach?" Donna asked, rummaging around for her pool pass. "At least there we'd get a breeze."

John shrugged. "Who says we have to ask her?"

"And you wonder why she's always on you," Donna replied.

They handed over their passes, grateful to see that despite the heat, it was relatively empty. They dumped their belongings on a group of lounge chairs, and Donna was barely out of her cover up before she was in the water. "This? Is heaven." John dunked her unceremoniously as he jumped in, and when she emerged she screeched at him. "You. _Wanker_."

Rose laughed as she toed off her sandals and removed her own cover up, feeling somewhat self-conscious. When she'd put the bikini on, she hadn't really paid much attention to the fact that, for the first time ever, she actually filled out the top rather nicely. But out here, in the blazing sun, she felt rather…exposed.

"Hurry up, slowpoke!" Donna called.

John looked over to where Rose was standing and found himself unable to look away. At fifteen, she was a teenage boy's naughty dream come to life, all pink and yellow and curvy in all the right places. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her chest, wondering when on earth she'd gotten breasts and imagining how perfectly they'd fit in his hands.

"Oi, spaceman!" Donna's hand smacked the back of his head. "Put your tongue back in your mouth."

"But…she's…" he made a gesture with his hands, grateful that Rose was too busy slathering herself with sunscreen to notice his gawking.

"Got breasts? Yes, I noticed. Tends to happen with females." Donna gave him a look. "Are you just now figuring out that she's a girl?"

"No! Yes! Maybe." John felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach, like he was suddenly nervous. But that was stupid, she was his best friend! What did he have to be nervous about?

He watched as she bent down to put her sunscreen away, and he felt himself getting aroused at the sight of her bum covered with a tiny scrap of pink spandex and nylon. _That_ was what he had to be nervous about. He gulped, glad the lower half of himself was underwater and that his trunks were roomy.

"Oh. My. GOD. You are a gigantic dunce!" Donna's words were harsh, but her voice was not as she saw how gobsmacked her brother was by Rose. She had always known her brother had a bit of a thing for Rose, but his inability to look anywhere else just confirmed it. "John, it's okay. Normal even for you to…feel that way about her. I mean, she's beautiful."

"I dunno." He looked at his sister. "I just…dunno. But that's _Rose_, Donna! I shouldn't be…thinking about her like that!"

"I'd be worried if you didn't."

Rose was in the water now, making her way over to her friends. John couldn't help but notice how the cool water had caused her nipples to stand out through the fabric of her bathing suit, and he made himself look away. With a practiced smile, he dunked his sister again before taking off to the other end of the pool.

* * *

Rose sat on her bed, watching as Donna eyed herself in the mirror critically. "Who are you meeting again?" Rose asked.

"Tom Watson," Donna replied, making a face. "He's taking me to a movie."

"Isn't he captain of the football team?"

"He is." Donna began rifling through Rose's closet. "Got his own car, too." She emerged from the closet, two shirts in hand. "I like the green, but I think the purple will look better."

The door was flung open, and John loped in and flopped down next to Rose on the bed, peeling a banana. "A footballer, Donna?"

"Shut it, Spaceman." She looked at Rose. "Green or purple?"

"Purple."

"Thank you." Shirt in hand, Donna disappeared into the bathroom.

"Mum's gonna kill you when she finds out," John called.

"She's not gonna find out if you keep your gob shut."

"Oi! I can keep my gob shut!" He looked at Rose. "She's a pain in my arse."

"Funny," Rose replied, taking a bite of his banana. "She says the same about you."

Donna returned and shot her brother a look. "Did you tell Mum and Granddad we were staying here tonight?"

"Yes, Donna," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Although Mum gave me a stern lecture about how I'm too old to be staying over here anymore. Says it's 'inappropriate.'"

"Hope you told her to stuff it." Donna ran a brush through her hair. "I mean, it's not like the moment I leave the two of you'll be shagging. Hell, I'd be surprised if either of you had even snogged someone, let alone each other." She checked her watch. "Okay, I'm off. If I'm not back by one, call the police."

"Have fun," Rose said to her friend as Donna disappeared out the window.

John muttered under his breath and threw his banana peel in the trashcan.

"Hm?"

"Donna insinuating I've never snogged anyone. How would she know?"

Rose felt a stab of something-jealousy maybe-in her gut. "Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"You know…snogged someone. A proper snog."

"Of course."

She couldn't fathom why, but this made Rose feel awful and yet she was dying to know who he'd been snogging. "Who?"

"You want a list?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

_Yes._ "No. Just curious."

"A gentleman never kisses and tells, Rose Tyler." He held out his hand to her. "C'mon, Granddad gave me a tenner to get us chips."


	3. First Kisses

When Donna left for university the following fall, the dynamic between Rose and John changed. Although they remained friends, the absence of Donna was like a hole that they just couldn't seem to fill.

In truth, it made Rose unbearably sad. Next year, John would join his sister at university, and it would be just her. Not that she didn't have other friends, but after almost sixteen years she'd grown used to having her best friends next door. It was always such a comfort to know that she could always go next door and find one of them there, she couldn't bear to imagine what it would be like once both of them were gone.

On the eve of her sixteenth birthday, she was sitting in her room and feeling quite sorry for herself when the window slid open and John climbed through. At seventeen he was still tall and lanky, but no longer gangly and awkward. His hair remained sticky-uppy, but now it was deliberate-he spent a good amount of time in front of the mirror to get it just the way he wanted. Rose hated to admit it, but he was-in a word-gorgeous.

"Hey." John sat down on the bright pink beanbag chair. "Big day tomorrow."

Rose shrugged noncommittally.

"What's the matter?" Concern flitted over his features. "You're acting weird."

"I…I dunno."

"You're a bad liar, Rose." He stretched his long legs out in front of him. "Come on, tell me."

Rose sighed, unsure of whether or not she could tell him without coming off as barmy. "I don't want things to change." He gave her a quizzical look, and she blushed slightly. "I miss the way it was, you an' me an' Donna, and now she's off at uni and it's just us and next year you'll be at uni too and I just…I wish things didn't have to change, y'know?"

John stood and went to the bed, sitting down next to her. "You'll always be my best friend, Rose."

"You say that now. How many times has Donna called? And she's in the same bloody city!"

"I'm not Donna." John grabbed her hand and stood, pulling her up. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" she asked as he pulled her down the stairs and out the door.

"Backyard, want to show you something." The ducked through the hole in the fence, and Rose followed him to the telescope his grandfather kept. He peered in, made some adjustments, and looked up at her with a grin. "Ready?"

She peered into the eyepiece and gasped. Amid the bright stars was what appeared to be a large, red cloud in the shape of a rose.

"It's called the Rose Nebula."

"It's beautiful." She grinned at him. "Thank you for showing me."

"Early birthday gift." John shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled. "Sweet sixteen."

"Dunno that I'd say sweet."

"Sweet sixteen and never been kissed?" he teased.

"Shut up." Rose socked him playfully on the arm. Jackie's voice calling for her rang through the backyard. "Coming!"

John grabbed her hand as she turned to go. "Wait, something else for you."

She turned, and he took a step towards her. Before she could react his lips were on hers, his hands on her hips. Her eyes slipped shut as his mouth worked against hers, his tongue slipping past her lips. She had no idea how long they stood there, but her mother's voice rang out again, and John let her go with one last, soft kiss.

"Happy birthday, Rose."

With a shy smile, she turned and ran home. Before she reached the door she looked over to where they had stood; he was standing there, watching her with a smile on his face.

The back door banged open and his grandfather appeared, ready for his nightly stargazing. Finding John standing there with a dopey smile on his face, Wilf approached. "You look like the cat that ate the canary. Wouldn't have anything to do with our sweet Rose, would it?"

"It would indeed, Gramps." He turned to his grandfather. "I'm going to marry that girl."

Wilf laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Atta boy, John. You get that girl, and you never let her go."

"Oh I won't, Gramps. I won't."

* * *

The party was crowded and noisy, the thump of the bass making the walls vibrate beneath his feet. It felt as though his heart was thudding out of his chest, in time with the music.

John looked at his watch; half one, they'd better be getting home before Jackie or his mum found them gone. Setting his beer down, he scanned the room for Rose's familiar blonde head.

"You seen Rose?" he asked around, finally getting an answer out of her friend Shireen. "Yeah, saw her headed upstairs with some bloke, he was a bit of alright." She fixed her dark gaze on John. "You're never gonna interrupt!"

"I am, we've got to go before Jackie discovers Rose snuck out."

"Just wait until she comes back down." Shireen leaned in and whispered in his ear. "It's her first time, yeah? Let her have it without you making a right mess of it."

John stared at her. "Her first time? As in…"

"Blimey, you're thick for a genius. Yes, for that."

"Bloody fantastic." He rolled his eyes and headed upstairs, Shireen hot on his heels.

"Why're you doin' this?"

He turned to face her. "Because she deserves better than her first time than some drunken groping _ape_ at a party." He began opening doors, finally finding her half-dressed on a large bed with a blond bloke who was definitely too old to be shagging girls Rose's age. "Get off her now!"

"Get your own girl, mate!"

In three steps he was across the room, his hands fisted in the blond guy's shirt as he physically threw the guy across the room. "Get out."

Rose sat there staring, hand across her naked breasts. "What are you doing?"

"Preventing you from making a mistake." John threw her shirt at her. "It's half one, you told me we had to be home by two."

She turned from him, finding her bra and putting it on before slipping on her shirt. "Fine. Let's go."

The night air was chilly as they walked the few blocks home. Rose shivered slightly, and John took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. Rose smiled and slid her arms into the sleeves.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"The coat. And well, the other thing, too, I guess." Rose blushed.

John mumbled something under his breath.

"Wha?"

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"Not nothing. Spill it."

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he shrugged and kept walking. Rose followed, and when they reached her house he turned to her, his dark eyes serious.

"You deserve better than that, Rose."

"Better than what?"

He rubbed the back of his neck in a familiar gesture, refusing to look at her. "Better than having your first shag at a house party with a drunk guy whose name you don't know."

Confusion was written all over her face. "What?" she asked softly.

"You deserve," he sighed, tugging on his ear, "you deserve to have your first time be with someone who knows you and knows how special you are, who wants to make it good for you and who…cares about you."

"Oh." She took a deep breath before continuing, not sure whether or not she really wanted the information she was about to ask for. "Is that…did that happen to you?"

"No. She was…nevermind. It doesn't matter." He finally looked at her, grateful that it was dark and she would be unable to really see his face. "Don't rush it. You're worth waiting for, and if a bloke doesn't get that then he doesn't deserve you."

Rose smiled. "And to think you once spent five whole months telling me I was yucky because I was a girl."

John grinned at the memory. "To be fair, you said I was yucky first."

"You were covered in mud."

"Still, you started it."

"Whatever." Rose shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to him. "Thanks for the coat. See you tomorrow." She climbed the tree and went through her window, disappearing from view.

* * *

The night before he left for university, John slid Rose's window open. Although it was dark, in the dim light he could make out her sleeping form under her pink duvet. When the window creaked she stirred, eventually sitting up and watching him climb in the window.

"Alright?" she asked with a yawn.

"Yeah, just…felt like sneaking in one last time." He lay down next to her, on top of the duvet.

"My mum knew you were here every time," she replied.

John laughed. "Can't get anything past Jackie." In the darkness he found her hand. "I'm going to miss you. Whose window will I sneak into in the middle of the night?"

"I'm sure you'll find a pretty girl who won't mind you sneaking in one bit." She felt a stab of sadness as she said it, because she knew it was true.

"Not the same."

"Well, if you get a craving to sneak through a window, I'm only on the other side of the city."

"True." He sighed. "Did I tell you I'm living next door to Donna?"

"Some things never change! At least it's not the same flat, yeah? Who's your roommate going to be? Do you know?"

"An American, of all things! Jack Harkness. Talked to him once, seems like a decent bloke."

"I've an idea, why not try and set him up with Donna?" Rose grinned.

"Why would I want to do that to someone I don't know? I save that kind of torture for my enemies."

"Oi, rude!"

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, sitting with their hands entwined for several minutes. "I should go."

Rose sighed. "Yeah. Big day tomorrow."

He turned to get up, but turned back to her and kissed her, his hand coming up to the back of her head and threading through her hair. They kissed for what felt like hours, until Rose finally broke it off, pulling back to look at him.

"What…" she paused, her voice cracking. "Why?"

John placed his hands on either side of her face and looked into her eyes. "Listen to me, Rose. Things are changing, will change, and it won't always be for the best but promise me you'll never, ever forget what I'm going to tell you."

"I promise."

"We're meant to be, Rose, just not now. It's not our time yet but when it is, we're gonna be the stuff of legends." He grinned at her, wiping the tears that had begun streaking down her cheeks. "Just you wait, Rose Tyler. We're going to be fantastic." He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "See you in the morning?"

Speechless, she nodded, and watched as he climbed out the window and disappeared.


	4. Christmas

He called once a week, sometimes more; sometimes they talked for hours, other times it was a quick hello, but he never failed to call.

When he came home for Christmas holiday, he was the same and yet not. New friends, new places, full of stories filled with people and places she'd never been; he was more confident, more assured. Less the boy she had known and more the man she knew he would become.

But just like old times, he still came in through her window, landing on his bum with a _thud_.

"I take it you haven't been sneaking in any windows lately," she quipped, scooting over in the bed to make room for him.

"You saying I'm clumsy?" he replied, laying down next to her.

"No. Implying, yes." She grinned. "So how's Jack?" Rose had talked to Jack on the phone many times, he was funny and charming and a shameless flirt.

"He's…Jack." John pulled his phone out and found a picture of his roommate, his arm around Donna. "I'd kill him if I didn't like him so much."

"He's handsome." Rose grinned at him. "Bet he's quite the ladies man."

"Men, women, he'll stick it in anything with a willing orifice." Rose smacked him, and he shouted. "Oi! It's true! I can't tell you how many times I've found a stranger in the kitchen, making themselves tea in the altogether. It's quite…unnerving."

"Does Donna like him?"

"Of course she does, look at him!"

Rose began flipping through the pictures. "Who's this?" she asked, pointing to a dark-haired girl.

"Christina. Jack and her roommate…well, I wouldn't say they are dating, it's more like shagging whenever the mood strikes. Which is apparently fairly often."

"Ah." She scrolled through pictures of Donna, of Jack with various people, and one of John sprawled on a sofa with marker on his face. "I like the marker, it works for you."

"And that was the last time I let Jack make the drinks." He closed his phone and slipped it back in his pocket. "How have you been?"

"Fine. Got into uni, will be there with you and Donna next year."

"Brilliant!" he grinned at her. "You and Donna should share a flat, her roommate now is a right cow."

"She wouldn't want to live with me, a lowly fresher."

"Oi! Not so lowly."

"Next year you lot won't even talk to me, be embarrassed to be seen with a first-year."

"Never." He nudged her playfully. "Besides, my roommate is besotted with you. He'll be following you around like a lovesick puppy."

"Yes, so besotted he'll shag anything." She grinned at him. "You should bring him home for a weekend, let me meet this Jack Harkness in person."

"So I can sneak in through your window and find him in your knickers?"

"A girl's got needs. Or did you mean him _wearing_ my knickers? Because that is one thing I am not into."

John made a disgusted face. "Thank you for that lovely mental image."

"Just wanted to clarify."

"Although, for the record, if you asked him to wear your knickers he probably would." John shook his head. "Honestly, Rose, I don't know how he hasn't failed out yet. He never goes to lectures, I have never seen him open a book…he's either a genius or sleeping with someone important."

"Or both."

They lapsed into silence, and when John looked over at her she was asleep. He moved to go, but her hand reached out. "'S late, just stay."

John paused, heart thumping hard in his chest. He missed her, missed her easy smile and her big, generous heart. He'd never met a girl who was as kind or as honest as Rose or who could make his heart race simply by holding his hand. The way he felt about her terrified and confused him. She was his _best friend_, he shouldn't _want_ to touch her and kiss her.

That didn't stop him from wanting her. And he did want her, so much that it terrified him.

He knew he should leave, but one look at her sleeping face and his resolve crumbled. Toeing off his shoes, he settled back on the pillow and drifted into sleep.

* * *

Rose's phone trilled on the evening of Christmas Eve, just late enough so that she knew it could be only one person. A glance at her phone confirmed her suspicion, and she tugged on her trainers and coat.

"Goin' next door for a bit," she said to her mother, who was wrapping presents at the dining table.

"Ask Sylvia if I can borrow a pie plate, would you?" Jackie asked without looking up. "I've got another pie to make for tomorrow and I can't find my other one."

"Sure, Mum."

"And don't be too late, Cousin Mo wants us there before 10."

"I know."

She ducked through the hole in the fence and found Wilf with his telescope. Upon hearing her footsteps, he looked over at her and smiled.

"There's our girl."

"Hi, Wilf." She leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek. "How's the view tonight?"

"None too bad, but not near as nice as the pretty girl standing next to me." Rose blushed. "You goin' inside to see himself, then?"

"Yeah, gotta be quick though, Mum's on the warpath. Sylvia around? Mum wants to borrow a pie plate for tomorrow."

"In the kitchen, love. Go on in."

When Rose opened the back door, Sylvia looked up. "Hello, Rose."

"Hi, Sylvia. Mum wants to know if she can borrow a pie plate."

"I should have another one around here somewhere. Give me a minute."

Rose smiled. "No rush, I'm here to give John his present." She tossed her coat over the back of a chair and, present in hand, went up the stairs to John's room.

She found him lounging on the bed, phone in hand and texting madly. "Oi, took you long enough," he said, scooting over on the bed to make room for her.

"Shut up." She tossed a small parcel at him, gaily wrapped in green and red paper.

Grinning, he tossed the phone on the bed and ripped into the package, his face lighting up as he pulled the old pocket watch out of it's box. "You trying to tell me something?"

"Yes, that you're always late." She smiled. "I remember you said your dad had one, but it got lost after he..." Rose let the sentence trail off awkwardly, knowing he didn't like to talk about his father's death. "It's not got a battery, you'll have to wind it for it to work, but I took it to a jeweler and he said it's in great condition. He offered me 200 quid for it but I refused."

"I certainly hope you won't be disappointed, your gift is not nearly as nice." He rummaged through his bedside table and pulled out a small, unwrapped box. "Sorry it's not wrapped."

Rose opened the box to find two ivory hair combs with pink and yellow roses intricately carved into them. "They're lovely!"

"They reminded me of you." _All pink and yellow_, he longed to say, _the color of your hair, the color of your cheeks after a good laugh, the color of your bikini when you were fifteen and I got a knob-on just looking at you_. He swallowed thickly, wishing he weren't such a coward.

Smiling, she went over to his mirror and put the combs in her hair. "What do you think?" she asked turning to face him.

"They look like they were made for you." He stood up and walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. "Happy Christmas."

"You too." Rose looked up at him, and when their eyes met, Rose could have sworn that time slowed down, that she could feel the turn of the Earth as he bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers.

Rose had kissed plenty of guys in the years since John had given her her first kiss, but none of them had ever made her feel like this; dizzy with want, warmth spreading through her body, and when his tongue swept into her mouth, she swore she saw stars.

John pulled back and looked at her, breathing slightly labored. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips pink and sparkly with her lip gloss and before she could even process what had just happened his mouth was on hers again, this time with more urgency.

Instinctively, Rose put her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers into his hair. Spurred on by her actions, one of his hands found its way under the back of her jumper to the soft skin of her back as they moved towards his bed. When Rose's knees hit the bed she sat down and scooted up towards the head, his mouth never leaving hers.

John braced himself above her on one arm as he kissed her, his other hand moving from the soft skin of her back to the softer skin of her stomach. As their kiss intensified, his hand moved up to her breast, pinching her nipple through the satin and making her moan.

The trill of a phone was like a claxon in the quiet room, and they sprung apart, breathing heavily. Rose fumbled in her jeans pocket until she found the phone, and she looked at it with a frown. "Mum. Needs the pie plate."

"Ah." John sat up and ran a hand through his hair, moving off the bed.

Tucking her phone away, she smoothed the fabric of her jumper and swung her legs over the side of the bed. They stared at each other for a moment, neither quite knowing what to say. Rose's phone trilled again, and she rolled her eyes as she stood up. "See you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah." His voice was hoarse, and he looked away, picking up his phone.

Heart still pounding, Rose gathered her jacket and the pie plate Sylvia had left for her and headed out the back door, although she would have sworn her feet never touched the ground.

* * *

Rose and Donna sat on the comfy old couch in the basement, curled up under a blanket together as they watched telly. John sat on the floor in front of them, phone in hand. When it rang he sprang up and headed to the laundry room, answering the phone in a hushed voice.

"What's all that about?" Rose asked Donna.

"Probably one of his many paramours," Donna replied with an exaggerated eyeroll. "How that skinny streak of nothing gets so many women is beyond me."

Rose felt like a block of ice had settled in her stomach. "He...has lots of girlfriends?"

"Nah, he just gets lots of numbers whenever we go out. Doesn't go looking for them, but the women seem to love him." Donna looked over at her friend and noticed that Rose had gone pale. "You okay?"

"He snogged me."

Donna had the urge to beat her brother about the head with a heavy, blunt object. Instead, she tried to assuage Rose's worries. "You're the only one he ever calls back," she said. "The others get a date, maybe two."

Rose sighed and lay her head on Donna's shoulder. "I know, it's stupid. It's not like we're anything other than mates, yeah?"

"He's thick, Rose, you know that. Gigantic dumbo, that's him." Donna lay her head on top of Rose's and took her hand. "Just forget about it, yeah? Temporary insanity brought about by having to be around my mother for two whole weeks."

Rose chuckled sadly. "Yeah."

When John returned, his sister shot him a look that struck fear into his heart and refused to speak to him until they were on their way home. It was only once they were in their own yard that Donna deigned to speak to him, prefacing it with a resounding slap on the back of his head.

"You. _Arsehole_."

"What the hell was that for?" he asked angrily. "If you're gonna give me a smack, I'd like to know why first!"

"You know damn well why I thumped you, and I'll give you more than a thumping if you hurt her." Donna's eyes were narrow and her voice hard. "You might have girls falling all over you at uni, but Rose isn't one of those slags. Does she know about Renee?"

At the mention of his girlfriend's name, he had the grace to at least look sorry. "No."

"You _wanker_! You _absolute wanker_!" Donna raised her hand to thump him again, and he raised his arms in self-defense. "She _loves_ you! She's your best friend! And you treat her like she's one of the slags who hit on you in pubs!"

"Donna-"

"Don't you 'Donna' me, you stupid tosser!" Donna stepped forward so that they were standing nose to nose. "You tell her or I will. You have until first of January, and I mean the minute the clock strikes midnight, or I will tell her. And then I will help her remove your reproductive organs with a rusty spoon. Am I clear?"

"Fine." John sighed. "Look, I just...I'm scared, okay?"

"Scared? Of what?"

"Her! This!" Groaning in frustration, he ran his hand through his hair. "I like her, Donna, in a way that I think I probably shouldn't."

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Because she's my best mate! Because we took baths together when we were three, and because she knows I slept with a nightlight until I was ten, and because she's _Rose_, she's the girl next door and that whole girl-next-door thing is cliché and never works out."

Realization dawned in Donna's eyes. "You love her. You love her and it scares you to death." She smacked him again, this time on the arm. "If you love Rose, why are you with Renee?"

"I like her, too!" John growled in frustration. "I like Renee. She's beautiful and she's smart and funny and I like spending time with her. I'm not trying to lead her on. I just...I want to make sure that what I feel for Rose isn't just my hormones or because she's convenient. Maybe eventually I'll feel this way about Renee? Maybe I won't feel this way about Rose in a year. I'll never know if I don't go out there and try." He heaved a sigh. "I know I've screwed up royally."

Donna sighed. "Well, you've made a right mess of this. But you tell her, you tell Rose about Renee, or I will."

* * *

"You're such a girl!" Rose said, sitting on John's bed while he primped and preened in front of the mirror for New Year's Eve down at the pub. Her phone dinged with a text message, and she read it with a grin. "Donna says to hurry up, she won't save you a seat at the pub much longer."

"You tell her to shut her piehole."

John's phone dinged, and Rose grabbed it off the table, expecting the message to be from Donna. She opened the message to find it wasn't Donna's image that popped up next to the message, but the image of John and a very attractive blonde woman, in what appeared to be a bed. She scanned the message.

_"My bed is lonely without you, my angel."_

Rose swore that her heart stopped. Taking a deep breath, she closed the message and tossed the phone on the bed, willing herself not to cry until she was alone.

"What's Donna want now?" John asked, then noticed Rose looking wan. "You okay?"

"No." Rose stood abruptly. "I'm suddenly not feeling well, I think I'm going to just go home."

She moved to leave, but John grabbed her arm. "Hey now, something's the matter. Tell me."

"Just feeling sick." Rose forced herself to give him a smile. "Sorry. Tell Donna to call me tomorrow, yeah?"

He knew she was lying, she could tell from the look in his eyes. "Yeah."

Rose managed to make it to her bedroom before she broke down in angry, humiliated tears. In a fit of anger she threw her coat across the room, hating him but hating herself just a little bit more.

"I'm so stupid!" she cried, curling up on her bed. "Stupid, stupid!"

She had just begun to calm down when there was a knock on the door. Donna poked her head in and sighed before coming to sit next to Rose on the bed.

"If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure I smacked him so hard that he'll be seeing double for a month." Donna brushed Rose's hair off her face. "He's a tosser, Rose, a total wanker and he's not good enough for you."

Rose sniffled again. "I'm so stupid, Donna. I didn't think he'd be a monk, but I mean...he didn't even tell me! We talk every day, and he never mentioned her!"

Donna pulled Rose up and put her hands on either side of Rose's face. "You listen to me, you're not stupid. This is his fault for not telling you about that horrible girl. And she is horrible, she's nowhere near as wonderful as you."

"If she's so awful, how come he's with her?"

"Because he's thinking with his dick." Donna sighed and hugged her friend. "He's not worth it, Rose. No matter how long you've been friends, no matter how close you are, what he did was horrible and you deserve better."

Rose nodded. "Yeah."

"Atta girl." Donna smiled at her. "You gonna be okay? I can ditch them if you want, we can stay in and watch movies."

Rose smiled, a genuine smile. "No, Donna, I'll be fine. You go have fun."

"You sure? I don't mind."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay, but if you need anything, you call me. Okay?"

Rose nodded. "Yeah."

She heard the door close behind Donna, and with a sigh got up and went to sit in front of her vanity. She sat for a moment, studying her reflection in the mirror before looking down at the envelopes in front of her.

She had been planning on starting university at the same school as John and Donna, and had only applied to school in Cardiff on a whim. But considering what had just happened, the idea of being far away from him had a certain appeal. She wouldn't have to worry about seeing him with that girl, running into him at pubs and the student center or on the Tube. She could start all over, where nobody knew her, where nothing could remind her of him.

Donna was right, she did deserve better. And maybe the only way to figure out just what 'better' meant was to get some space.

* * *

The knock on the front door startled Rose out of her telly-induced stupor, and when she opened the door she was glassy-eyed and not expecting to find John standing there, looking as though someone had kicked his dog.

"Hi."

"Hello." Rose was polite but not friendly, and she did not invite him inside. "Can I help you?"

John ran his hand through his hair. "You aren't answering your phone."

"No, I am."

It took a moment for her meaning to set in, and when it did he sighed. "I'm sorry, Rose. I am. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Well, you did. Anything else, or are we done here?"

"Please don't shut me out." He ran a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture Rose recognized. "I was a right twat, and I'm sorry. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me, but you'll never hate me more than I do."

Rose sighed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. It's not like it was a secret I was deliberately keeping from you, it just...never came up."

"And why did you kiss me?"

"I just...because you're _you_, you're my best friend who is beautiful and kind and...it felt _right_. " John sighed again. "Are we okay? I don't know that I could stand it if I lost you as a friend."

"I don't know." Rose took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. "I feel like you lied to me. If I'd known you had a girlfriend, I never would have let you snog me. Why would you want to do that, to me or to her?"

"I don't know. Because I'm confused and stupid?" He gave her a wan smile. "When I figure it out, I'll let you know."

"Well, I don't think we can go back to the way we were, at least I can't. I don't know that I trust you anymore."

"Rose-" he pleaded, but she cut him off.

"Maybe someday we can be friends again, but for right now...I just need to focus on school and my A-levels. That's what's important right now." She gave him a half-hearted smile. "So I'll talk to you...whenever."

John gave a resigned sigh, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes. "Yeah." He turned his head, tears pricking behind his eyes.

"See ya." Rose shut the door and leaned against it, finally allowing the tears she had been fighting to fall.

On the other side of the door, John did the same.


	5. Confessions

True to her word, Rose focused on her studying and passed her A-levels with flying colors. She talked to Donna frequently and Jack fairly regularly, but would not pick up the phone when John called, which was no longer daily but was still more frequently than she had been anticipating. After their conversation, she had figured he would stop calling; he hadn't, but she just couldn't bring herself to talk to him quite yet. She couldn't deny that she missed him and his friendship, but she also knew that she had to do this for herself.

It was Donna who broke the news that Jack was coming to stay for the summer. "He and my brother are gigantic dumbos, went out and sublet their flat before they both found themselves jobs and now they've got no place else to go."

"And you?"

"I'm staying in the city, found a job at a newspaper. It pays shit, but it's a job and they said I can stay through the fall term if it works out."

"Good for you."

"He misses you a lot, you know."

"He still seeing Renee?" Rose hated herself for asking.

"Yes."

Rose paused a moment before asking, "Did you know? About her, I mean."

Donna sighed. "Yes. And I had no idea you didn't know until Christmas. And once I knew...well, I didn't think it was my place to tell you. I didn't...I didn't want to hurt you. I'm sorry."

Rose nodded. "Yeah, it's okay. I mean, you didn't know he hadn't told me."

"Honestly, I had no idea. You two talked all the time, I assumed you knew." Donna sounded contrite, and Rose found she couldn't be mad at Donna; it wasn't Donna's fault that John hadn't told her about Renee, or her fault that John had kissed her.

"Well, I know now."

"I hate myself for defending him," Donna said, "but Rose, he misses you. He's always thinking of something to tell you, and when you call me or Jack and he's there, he gets this look on his face like you've...I don't know, kicked his puppy and stolen his bike."

"I miss him, too, Donna. But I don't know that I can trust him anymore."

"I'm not saying you should, I just thought you should know that he's just as upset as you are."

"Okay. Well, thanks."

"I've got to get to my lecture. I'll call you later."

* * *

Rose spent the weeks up to their arrival keeping herself so busy that she wouldn't notice their presence-or at least that's what she told herself. In reality she knew when they'd be arriving, and made sure to be conveniently out when they got there.

It was a warm Thursday evening when the knock on her window startled her, and she looked up to see a dazzling smile beneath beautiful blue eyes. She grinned as she opened the window. "So, Jack Harkness, you meet all your girls this way?"

"Only the beautiful neighbor girls," he replied, climbing through the window and landing gracefully on his feet. "Don't I get a hug?"

Rose couldn't help but grin as she leapt into his open arms, it felt so natural. "It's good to finally meet you."

"Your picture doesn't do you justice," he replied.

"What picture?"

"The picture of you and John and Donna that John keeps on our refrigerator." Jack laughed. "And the picture of you on his desk, and the one on Donna's end table...shall I go on?"

Rose blushed. "Oh, stop."

"Donna said I should ask you to go for chips if I wanted to get on your good side," he said with a smile. "Was I misled?"

"No, you were not. Are you asking me for chips?"

"Are you saying yes?"

Rose laughed. "Are you paying?"

"A gentleman always does." He held out his arm, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

With a grin, she threaded her arm through his and led him downstairs.

* * *

Rose was applying her makeup when there was a knock on her bedroom door. She was surprised to find John standing there, hands in his pockets and looking nervous. When she opened the door the worried look disappeared and he gave her a smile.

"Hello."

"Hi." Rose walked back to her vanity. "How are you?"

John shrugged. "Oh you know me, I'm always alright." He sat down on the bed and watched her, trying to ignore the nervous pounding of his heart. "You met Jack."

"I did. He's as charming as you said." She smiled at him in the mirror. "By the way, he's a world politics major."

John let out a hearty laugh. "Leave it to you to figure out the truth behind Jack Harkness. Well, he never could resist a pretty face."

The smile disappeared from Rose's face. "How was your spring term?" she asked casually.

"Fine. Working at the observatory for the summer. You?"

"Fine. Got my A-levels, working at that boutique over near the Tescos."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. John fidgeted for a moment, running his hands through his hair before blurting out, "I miss you. I miss talking to you."

"I...I miss you, too." Rose took a deep breath. "Let's not do this, okay?"

"Do what? Talk like friends?"

"Pretend everything is okay." Rose turned to him. "We can't go back to the way it was. You hurt me, John. You kiss me and say all these pretty things and make me feel special, and all the while you have a girl waiting for you back at uni." Rose sighed. "Look, I forgive you for what happened, but I don't think we can go back to being like we were. It hurts too much." Her phone trilled, and she picked it up. "Shireen's here...I gotta go."

Rose bustled about, grabbing her purse and shoving some items into it hurredly. John watched silently, wanting desperately to grab her and beg her forgiveness, hating himself for having caused this rift to begin with.

He followed Rose downstairs and out the front door, and she turned to him after she locked the door. "I'll see ya, yeah?"

"Yeah." He watched as she hopped into Shireen's car and drove away.

* * *

True to her word, Rose was friendly towards John, but kept a certain distance between them. She would answer if he called, but the only time they spent together was always in the company of Jack.

John could only see this as a positive; just her answering her phone when he called was proof enough that things could be mended. And truthfully, it thrilled him. He tried not to show how happy this made him for fear that he would screw it up and it would all just disappear.

Jack, for his part, was more than happy to spend his free time acting as a sort of buffer between them; he found that John was at his most John-ish when he was with Rose, and it amused him endlessly. Jack made no secret of the fact that he adored Rose, which amused Rose and irritated John; Rose adored Jack just as much, and they grew close quickly, much to John's chagrin.

John liked Jack, they were friends-aside from Rose, Jack was probably his closest friend. It was hard not to like Jack, with his effusive charm and his wonderful sense of humor; John envied him his easygoing personality. But his easy friendship with Rose bothered him, made him feel left out. John knew it was silly, but every time Rose gave Jack her big, beautiful grin, he felt a stab of envy that was so fierce that it frightened him.

On the afternoon of July 4th, Rose was reading when Jack slid her window open. Surprised, she set her book down. "It's a Tuesday, why aren't you at work?"

"I work for Americans, remember?" he replied, sitting down on the bed and making himself at home. "Today we celebrate throwing off the shackles of monarchy by grilling dead animals and blowing off our limbs."

Rose grinned. "Sounds like fun."

"Wilf has decided to throw a barbecue tonight, so come hungry. And bring a tourniquet, because John will probably end up blowing his hand off."

"Hopefully it won't be his wanking hand," Rose replied cheekily.

"Rose, you naughty girl!" Jack said, howling with laughter. "You know, John specifically said I was not to discuss sex with you and here you are, making jokes about wanking."

"What? Why can't you talk about sex with me? Does he think I'm some sort of innocent who needs protecting?"

"I think it's more that he's worried he'll find out more than he wants to know about your sex life," Jack replied.

Rose laughed. "My nonexistent one?"

"What? You are a bad liar, Rose Tyler. Pretty girl like you?"

She gave an embarrassed shrug and looked away. "After...John, I was kind of gun-shy."

Jack reached out and cupped her chin, turning her face so that he could look her in the eye. "Don't ever be ashamed, Rose. If you want it to be special, it should be."

"How do you do it?" she asked, then laughed when she realized how that sounded. "I mean, John says you're...what did he call you? A lothario? A playboy? How is it that you are now the second person to tell me that sex should be special, but you have a reputation for shagging anything that moves? What's special about that?"

"That's a fair question." Jack lay back and thought for a moment. "I won't say that it isn't-or hasn't, I should say-been special for me, because it has and that's when it's really...I can't explain. But sometimes you just need to get off. But the first time, it should be special; it should be with someone you trust, who cares about you and wants to make it good for you."

"That's what John said."

"He's right."

Rose flushed slightly and looked away, embarrassed. "I always thought...it would be him."

"It still could be. You never know."

Rose looked over at Jack, loving and hating him simultaneously for giving her a shred of hope to cling to. "Maybe I don't want to wait for him. Maybe I think I've waited long enough." She leaned over and kissed him, humming in pleasure when he kissed her back. Rose broke the kiss to pull her shirt over her head and Jack reached out to touch her breast. "Maybe it's time I started living my life for me and not anyone else."

"I'm not going to tell you no," he said, "but is this really what you want?"

Jack's look was so earnest that it almost brought tears to her eyes. "Yes." Rose leaned down and kissed him again. "I trust you, I know you care about me, and I know you'll make it good for me. And most importantly, I know that this won't ruin our friendship."

"No, it won't."

"So then, Jack Harkness, show me how it's done."

* * *

Rose and Donna sat in Rose's basement, eating takeaway and watching movies. Donna had come home for the weekend, and the boys were both sleeping off epic hangovers. The girls, however, had been more sensible and as such were relatively hangover-free and enjoying some girl time.

"How's it going? With John, I mean?" Donna asked. "It seems like you two are okay."

Rose shrugged as she bit into a piece of broccoli. "I forgave him, but it's not...we're not like we used to be. It hurts, but not as much as it used to, you know?"

"Good. And you and Jack seem to get on famously. He's great, isn't he? I'm so glad John didn't get stuck with a total loser."

"Jack is...he's fantastic. A great guy, a good friend." Rose was dying to tell someone-anyone-about what had happened with Jack, and this seemed like an opportune time. "I uhm, I should tell you that I, um..." she took a deep breath and spoke quickly and so softly that Donna almost missed it, "I slept with Jack."

"You _what_?" Donna dropped her fork. "Our Jack? Jack Harkness?"

"Yeah."

"What on earth for?"

Rose shrugged. "I wanted to. I just figured, being my first time and all, should be with someone who is my friend."

Donna gave her a half-smile. "You've got a point. You didn't do this to get back at my brother, did you?"

"No!" Rose was adamant. "I didn't. I just...I wanted to find out what all the fuss was about."

"And did you?" Donna asked, giving Rose a look that she knew meant Donna wanted the dirty details.

"Yeah." Rose laughed. "I mean, you hear about girls who say it was over quickly, they didn't come, whatever, but that was _so not_ the case with Jack. I came three times before he even...you know." Rose flushed slightly. "I think it's going to be hard to top."

Donna grinned. "You know, you couldn't have picked a better guy to teach you about sex, God knows he's had enough of it." She picked up her fork and began eating again. "At any rate, I'm glad it was good for you. My first time was awful. Ugh."

"Why?"

"First of all," Donna gestured with her fork, "he ended up being a total loser, I mean he was good looking and all, but he was so full of himself. And then, he didn't even try to make it good for me, it was all about him, I was left wondering 'is that it?' Horrible."

"I see now why Jack has such a reputation. It's well deserved."

"It's called a reputation for a reason." Donna took another bite. "My brother doesn't know, does he? Because you can't tell him."

"No, and I wasn't planning on telling him, either." Rose gave Donna a look. "My sex life is none of his business. He's the one that had his girlfriend sexting him while he was busy snogging me."

"Atta girl." Donna grinned. "And don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

* * *

The late-August evening was blissfully cool as Rose opened her window to let in the breeze. She was packing her belongings, trying to figure out just how much they could fit in Jackie's Vauxhall. She was packing her vanity when her eyes landed on a picture she had tucked into the corner of the mirror. It was of her and John, taken on John's twelfth birthday; both were dressed in ratty t-shirts and shorts, their sunburned noses red, the sun glinting of John's glasses and Rose's braces. They were sharing a piece of birthday cake, and by the smiles on their faces it was obvious they were sharing a private joke. Rose remembered the day vividly, and the memory made her tear up a bit.

On impulse, she set the picture down and ran downstairs and out the front door, heading next door. She knocked, and Wilf opened the door with a smile.

"How's our girl?"

"I'm good. John home?"

"Up in his room. Go on up, love."

Rose bounded up the stairs and knocked on John's door, heart in her throat.

"Jack, I told you-" he began, but stopped when he saw Rose, his heart in his throat. She hadn't been up here since New Year's, and hadn't voluntarily been alone with him since their little talk. "Sorry, thought you were Jack. Come in."

Rose followed him into the room, shutting the door behind her. He gave her a confused look but didn't say anything, choosing instead to sit on the bed.

"I'm going to Wales. For uni. I'm leaving in the morning." Rose's voice shook. "But before I go, I had some things I wanted to say to you."

John, who was clearly surprised at Rose's sudden pronouncement, nodded. He wiped his palms on his shorts, hoping he didn't look as nervous as he felt.

Nervously, she fiddled with one of her rings as she spoke. "You were my best friend. My very best friend. We told each other everything, we did everything together, and there was nothing I wouldn't have done for you. And somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you." John opened his mouth to speak, but Rose held up a hand to stop him. "Just let me get this out, yeah?"

He nodded, blood pounding in his ears. She loved him? She _loved_ him! His heartbeat sped up, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.

"You were my first kiss, my protector, you held my hand at scary movies and bought me chips after school, we were like this unit-joined at the hip, always together, and I loved it. I loved you. I loved how you made me feel and how I knew that I could always count on you to come through for me because you were John and my best friend and I never, ever questioned it.

"And then the night before you went to uni, you came into my room and kissed me in a way that I'd only ever dreamed of, and said these things to me that were so beautiful and that I desperately wanted to be true, and I fell a little more in love with you. When you kissed me on Christmas Eve I was just beside myself, thinking that you finally figured out that we'd be so good together. I hoped and prayed that you'd sneak in my window that night and tell me, and we'd finally just be together.

"You broke my heart, John Noble." Her lower lip trembled, and she struggled not to cry. "I thought you were the one person who would never, ever hurt me and you did. The worst kind of hurt. I cried over you, so many hours I cried, until I finally realized that maybe what I really needed was to find out who I was without you. So, that's what I'm doing. I'm going to go to Cardiff and make new friends and start a new life without you. And it's going to be fantastic."

John sighed, guilt washing over him in waves. "Can I speak now?" he asked, his voice rough. Rose nodded, and he paused a moment before speaking. "I'm sorry, Rose. I am. I can't express how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you, I never wanted to hurt you, and knowing that I have makes me hurt. I thought we were on our way to being friends again. Has that changed?" His eyes sparkled with unshed tears. At this moment, he would give anything-_anything_-to take it all back, to go back and make it right.

Rose shook her head. "No, that hasn't changed. I forgave you, and I meant it. But I don't know that I can trust you like I used to. I want to, I desperately want to because I miss you, but I just...you broke my heart and that's not something I can just get over."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

"I just thought you should know." Rose turned to leave but he stopped her, grabbing her hand and spinning her around so they were standing face to face. She dug her nails into her hand to prevent herself from crying as she looked him in the eye for the first time in what felt like forever.

"You will be fantastic, you know. No doubt in my mind."

She nodded. "Yeah. I will be." She gave him a tearful smile. "I'll see you at Christmas, yeah?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

"Me neither." She turned and walked out of the room.

John watched her go, wondering if this sick feeling was what having a broken heart felt like.


	6. Secrets Revealed

Rose was exhausted. She'd left Cardiff early that morning on the train, after a night of very little sleep. The end of term party she'd gone to had been ridiculously wild, and she and her flatmate hadn't gotten home until well into the early hours of the morning. She'd barely had enough time to shower and pack before the cab was there to take her to the train.

The cab pulled up in front of her house, and she smiled-she was happy to be home. She'd missed her mother terribly, even if they had spoken almost every day. However, Jackie was at work, so she'd have to wait a little longer to catch up with her mum.

She paid the driver and then got out, struggling with her heavy and unwieldy suitcase when a brown-coated figure appeared next to her and hauled it out for her with a smile. The cab drove off and they stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

John felt his heart pounding in his chest, joy blossoming in his chest when she smiled at him. He'd missed her, more than he'd like to admit.

For her part, Rose couldn't help but smile at him; his familiar face was a welcome sight and she longed to throw herself into his arms and hug him tightly. When he grinned back at her, her heart soared.

She spoke first. "Hello."

"Hi." John's smile was as warm as ever. "You changed your hair."

Rose's hand went to her hair, which was now a honey-blonde color and fell in gentle waves to her shoulders. "Yeah. My flatmate's cousin does hair, she did mine for free."

"It looks nice. Wales agrees with you."

She smiled. "It does."

He picked up her bag and headed for the house before she could refuse his help. Rather than say anything, she simply dug her keys out of her purse and opened the door. He set the bag down and Rose surprised herself by asking, "Would you like tea?"

It obviously surprised him as well, as his eyebrows shot up. "Tea sounds great."

They hung their coats up and Rose bustled about the kitchen, preparing their tea. She found homemade biscuits on the table, and soon they were sitting in the warm kitchen sharing a snack.

"How are classes?" he asked between bites.

"Good! My professors are really great, I'm loving it."

"Knew you would."

"And how's London?"

"The same as always." John smiled. "You and your flatmate get on alright?"

"Yeah, Martha's great! Going to be a doctor so she spends a lot of time studying, but we manage to have some fun." Rose laughed. "I would ask about Jack, but I just talked to him the other day so I know how he is."

"He's...Jack. He managed to sleep with one of the bartenders at this pub we like, so now we don't have to pay for drinks. At least he's using his powers for good." John laughed. "He even managed to help me get my car. It's not a great car, but it's transport."

"Think I could get him to sleep with a sales clerk from Harrod's? I could use a new wardrobe."

"What makes you think he hasn't?"

"True. Hey, what are you even doing home? Donna said term isn't over for you until next week."

"It's not." John finished his tea. "I came to check on Granddad, he wasn't feeling well. Speaking of which, I should get back to him." He set his mug in the sink and turned to her. "It's good to see you."

"You too."

"Thanks for tea."

"Thanks for the conversation."

Rose watched him go, feeling lighter than she had in awhile.

* * *

It was the Nobles' turn to host Christmas dinner that year, so Rose and Jackie slogged through the rain with their dishes, shivering in the cold. Donna met them with kisses at the door, handing the dishes to John and taking their coats.

Dinner was a fairly lively affair, as Donna regaled them with stories from her job at the newspaper and John relating some of Jack's more family-friendly adventures. When they got to Rose, she blushed a bit and shrugged.

"I'm thinking about going abroad in the fall."

John felt his throat constrict. It was hard enough that she was hours away in Wales, now she wanted to put an entire continent between them. "Where to?" he managed to choke out.

"Rome. My school's got an exchange program, I can take classes a couple of different places, but I'm leaning towards Rome." She shrugged again. "I'll have to take summer classes in Wales, get all my required courses out of the way. But my paperwork is in, I'm just waiting for my advisor to approve it."

"Well, you know I'll come visit," Donna said with a grin. "I could use a holiday in a romantic city. Maybe meet some dashing Italian prince who wants to whisk me away to his villa and make me his princess."

"Or maybe some gypsy woman can curse you by silencing your gob," John retorted with a smirk.

"Oi!" Donna shouted, thumping him soundly.

"Oi! That hurt!"

Sylvia shot both of them daggers, and they immediately stopped their arguing. "Honestly, you'd think you were in nappies instead of in university, the way you carry on. John, no picking on your sister. And you, missy," she pointed at Donna, "no more thumping your brother."

They shot each other nasty looks before turning back to the conversation.

"I think it sounds lovely," Sylvia said to Rose. "Always good to get out and see the world."

"Yeah," Rose replied. "I'll get to learn Italian, which I normally wouldn't get to do. I'm really very excited about it."

John gave a wan smile. "I'm sure you'll love it."

After Rose and Jackie had left, John retreated to his room. Donna found him lying on the bed in the dark, staring into space. She sat down on the bed next to him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm always fine."

"Don't you lie to me. Spill it."

"I don't want her to go to Rome." He pouted.

Donna gave a small smile. "Not your place to decide. And really, it's not like you're used to seeing her every day, she goes to school in Cardiff!"

"It's different."

"Is it?" Donna ruffled his hair affectionately. "Afraid she'll never come back?"

He gave a sniff. "Maybe."

"If there is one thing I know about Rose Tyler," Donna said, "it's that she will always, _always_, come home."

John nodded. "Yeah."

"As her friend, I say this: it's none of your business what she does. She's not beholden to you. You hurt her, so any information she gives you about her life is a gift."

"And as my sister?"

"As your sister, I say that you were a total wanker, and that you're stupid for sticking with Renee when you clearly love someone else. But it's your life, and all I want is for you to be happy…although I don't think Renee makes you as happy as you think she does. Look," she took his hand, "Rose has her own life to live, just like you do. Go out and live it, and if it's meant to be…well, things will fall into place."

Donna's words hit home; they had their own lives to live. And while what he felt for Renee was nothing like his feelings for Rose, he did genuinely like her. He could try to be happy. He smiled and squeezed his sister's hand. "When did you get so smart?"

"I was smart all along. You just weren't listening."

* * *

Rose sent postcards from her travels: once a week, like clockwork, Jack or Donna would receive a postcard from somewhere on the continent. They put up a map in John and Jack's flat, sticking the postcard to the map with a little pin, keeping track of what Donna termed Rose's European Adventure. Jack received bawdy postcards from Pompeii and Paris, Donna got famous landmarks from Munich and Prague, Venice and Athens. Soon the map was covered with pins and postcards.

If John was bothered that Rose never sent one to him, he never let on. But every time Jack or Donna announced they'd received one, his heart sank. Things had been getting better between them-she'd even baked his birthday cake this past year! And now…nothing. He was frustrated and confused.

Rose, for her part, was traveling through Europe, trying in vain to forget her broken heart. Some days it was easy to forget that her best friend had broken her heart; after all, it was hard to be too sad when one was eating warm pain au chocolat along the Seine. But some days the pain seemed like a great chasm, and on those days she sent the postcards, knowing that her refusal to send one to John would wound him.

It was in Vienna that she had a moment of weakness, nipping off to the museum gift shop and purchasing a postcard of a painting that had brought tears to her eyes, sparking a memory long-forgotten. She wrote the note and posted it before she could think twice about it, hoping and praying that he'd read between the lines.

John shook the rain from his umbrella before he opened the door to his flat, cursing the string of lousy weather London had been having. Rose's last postcard to Donna had been about the sunshine of Athens, and he wished for a moment that he was anywhere other than dreary London. He shucked his shoes and jacket and headed for the kitchen when he saw a postcard sitting on the table; it was a painting he didn't recognize so he flipped it over, surprised to find his name and a message written in Rose's familiar, loopy writing.

_Every night, Hero stood in the tower with a light to guide Leander across the Hellespont, which he swam just to be with her. One stormy night, the breeze blew Hero's light out and Leander drowned. When she saw his body she was devastated, and threw herself off the cliff so she could join him in death. Hero was a beautiful, courageous woman; my question is whose Leander are you?_

He looked at the postcard again; posted from Vienna, it was a painting of Leander's body being pulled from the Hellespont.

John stared at the postcard, his mouth dry. What had she meant by that cryptic message? And why was it making his heart go a mile a minute in his chest? The rattle of keys at the door brought him out of his reverie, and he quickly pocketed the postcard as Jack and Donna entered, looking guilty.

No sooner had Donna shed her coat than she was at his side, scrutinizing him. "You look off."

"Thanks, Donna. You don't exactly look like Posh yourself." He glared at her and reached into the cabinet, grabbing a bag of crisps.

"Jack says you got a postcard from Rose."

"Can you mind your own business?" he spat at her, suddenly furious. "In some countries, reading someone else's mail is punishable by jail."

"Whoa!" Jack said, holding up his hands. "I didn't read it, I just saw that it was for you and from Rose."

"It's none of your business what it says," John growled at his sister.

Donna glared at him. "You'd think you'd be thrilled, having just gotten a postcard from Rose. Why are you acting like a twat?"

John said nothing, but proceeded to eat the crisps in a way that could only be described as vicious.

Jack came and stood next to Donna. "Maybe Rose finally told him off," he stage whispered, smirking at John.

"Would be about time," Donna replied. "Although I had no idea it was possible for someone to get their head even further up their own arse. Funny, what you learn in uni."

"Oi!" He took the postcard out from his pocket and slammed it down on the counter. "Here! Just…" and suddenly, his anger was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "I don't quite know what to make of it."

Donna picked it up, looking at the picture before reading the message on the back. She looked at Jack, who shrugged. "Not to be thick, but…I don't get it."

John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I once told her she was like Hero from the myth."

"And Leander was her lover." Jack nodded, realization dawning. "She's giving you an opening."

"How do you know?" John asked. "For all I know, she's telling me to go drown myself."

"I know how she thinks. This isn't a 'go fuck yourself' this is her offering you a chance."

"How do I know this isn't a very polite 'you're a twat. Fuck you, hope you die in a fire'…well, Hellespont?"

Donna snickered. "Because she'd come right out and tell you."

"Dear John," he began, pretending to write, "you're a tosser, fuck you. May your brain rot of syphilis and may your frankly magnificent hair fall out, leaving you bald. Yours, Rose." He gave his sister a look. "Not quite her style."

"I'm telling you," Jack said, pointing at the postcard, "this is her telling you that she still loves you."

"No offense, Jack, but how would you know?" John asked. "You hardly know her."

"I think I know her a little bit better than you think I do."

John scoffed. "Please. You only think you know her. She's been my best friend for nineteen years."

"Yeah, and how well do you know her then?" Jack challenged, now angry at his friend. "If you think Rose would ever tell you to fuck off, then you don't know her at all."

"Yeah? Well how do you know her so well after just a summer?" John threw back. "One summer and suddenly you're the expert on Rose Tyler!"

"I know her in one way you don't, buddy."

"And what way is that?"

"Biblically." Jack couldn't help but smirk as realization dawned on John's face.

It took him a minute, but once John realized what Jack had said, he saw red. Filled with rage, he tackled his friend, throwing them both to the floor with a thud.

"Stop it!" Donna pulled her brother off of his roommate and stood between them. "Just stop it!" She pointed at Jack, who was bleeding from his nose. "You are an insensitive bastard at times, you know that?"

"Yeah."

"Go get a flannel and clean your face. I don't want to ruin my shirt when I punch you myself." She turned to John. "And you, gigantic dumbo. Did you really think she was going to wait for you to get your head out of your arse? Get this through your thick skull, she is not yours. You don't get to dictate who or what she does."

John, still seething, glared at his sister. "He used her."

"I think you'll find that in this story," Jack called from the bathroom, "that she used me."

"Shut up!" Donna glared at him, then turned back to her brother. "Don't be mad at Jack for a choice that Rose made."

"That Rose made?"

"Yes. She propositioned him, not the other way around. And it's none of your concern considering you have a girlfriend. A girlfriend that you have had for over a year now, that you were sexting while you were snogging Rose! So don't you get all high and mighty about how Rose was supposed to be sweet and virginal, because it's not like you weren't off shagging Renee at every opportunity!"

John kept his mouth shut, not wanting to admit that Donna had a point. The fact that Donna knew the gory details did not escape his notice, and he made a mental note to have a little chat with her later.

"You don't get to judge her for this, got it? You had your fun, and she's entitled to have hers. You're just mad that she did it with Jack than with you. News flash, idiot! It could have been you. But you fucked it up when you started thinking with your dick instead of your brain. So you don't get to be mad at anyone but yourself."

Donna marched off to the bathroom to check on Jack, and John couldn't help but smirk when he heard the sound of Donna's hand hitting Jack's cheek. "Oi, you wanker! You don't go off on your friend about how you shagged the girl he loves unless you want to die. I've half a mind to tell Rose you spilled the beans, but I don't fancy cleaning your gonads off the kitchen ceiling. Learn when to keep your mouth shut."

Donna emerged from the bathroom. "Now, is it safe for me to leave, or do I need to send someone over here to make sure you don't kill one another?"

John sighed. "We'll be fine."

"Good." She picked up her purse and shrugged into her coat. "I have a date, so do not call me unless one of you is in mortal danger. And even then I might not pick up."

The door slammed behind her, and Jack came out of the bathroom with a damp flannel to his nose. "Look, I'm sorry."

"For which thing?"

"Both?"

John nodded. "It's alright. Donna has a point…she's not mine. I don't get to dictate her life."

"She wanted it to be you," Jack said. "I know that's no consolation."

"What?"

Jack rinsed the flannel in the sink and returned it to his nose. "She told me. When we…she said she'd always wanted it to be you who was her first."

John swore his heart stopped, and a sadness filled his heart. What had he done? "You really think she's giving me another chance?"

"I do. And I think that if you don't take it, you're a fool."

* * *

Three weeks later, and John was out of sorts. On top of the cryptic message from Rose, the research he was doing for his paper was going nowhere fast. He'd been cranky and distant to everyone including Renee, unable to get over this malaise that had settled over him.

There was a knock on the door, and John sighed and tucked Rose's postcard into the book he was reading. Renee stood on the other side of the door with a smile and a bag of takeaway.

"I come bearing dinner," she said, kissing him soundly before entering the flat and heading for the kitchen. "Hope curry is okay, it was on my way."

"Yeah, that's fine." He began to unpack the cartons of food. "You didn't have to bring dinner."

"I was hungry." She shrugged. "And you've been so preoccupied lately that I doubt you've been eating as much as you should."

The look she gave him was full of concern, and he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I guess I haven't been much good these past couple of weeks."

"I wouldn't say that," she replied, leaning in for a kiss and grabbing his bum. "I just worry, that's all."

"No need to worry, once I get this paper done I'll be much better."

"Then maybe," she said, hands sliding under his shirt, "what you need," her hands moved to the button of his jeans, "is a study break." She undid the button, but he stopped her.

"Maybe later?" he asked, ignoring the hurt look on her face. "I just want to eat and relax."

"Of course." Renee plastered a smile to her face and picked up her food, walking over to the map on the wall. "Your friend is getting quite the education."

"What?"

"Rose. She's the one abroad, yes?"

"Oh. Yeah, Rose is studying abroad."

"She's been to quite a few places." Renee peered in to get a better look at one of the postcards. "I see she went to Prague. Lovely city, I hope she got to spend more than a day or two."

John shrugged, slightly uncomfortable. "You'd have to ask Donna."

"And Munich…I'm jealous. Was she there for Oktoberfest? I hear it's quite the party."

"I'm not sure."

"Well, I certainly look forward to meeting her at some point. I'd love to hear about her trip." Renee sat down next to John on the sofa. "I'm sure the experience is doing her a world of good."

"Yeah."

After several moments of silence, she picked up the book he had been reading. "I honestly have no idea how you read this kind of thing," she said, flipping through the pages. "It seems very…dry."

"It is. I wouldn't read it for pleasure, but I would recommend it as a cure for insomnia."

The book fell open to the postcard bookmark, and Renee examined it. "Interesting choice for a postcard."

John snatched the book and the card from her hands. "She likes Greek mythology."

"Yes, but Hero and Leander? That's not a terribly well-known myth." Renee took a bite, chewing slowly to see if he would say anything, hoping for a denial. When he didn't so much as even shrug, she spoke again, her calm voice belying the nerves in her stomach. "I think she may fancy you."

"No," he scoffed. "We used to talk about the Greek myths when we'd stargaze in the backyard. Gramps loved to tell the particularly gruesome ones."

She nodded. It was an explanation, although Renee was certain it was not the truth."Well, many certainly are gruesome. But Hero and Leander isn't one you'd typically talk about. It's not one of the major myths, doesn't involve any of the major deities."

John shrugged. "I have no idea why she chose it."

"Well, I think she fancies you. Who wouldn't?" Renee set her dish down on the table and slid over next to him, nipping at his ear before whispering to him, "I know I do." She placed an open-mouth kiss to his neck. "I'd like to show you just how much I fancy you."

His stomach churned. He owed it to Renee to stop this, to tell her that yes Rose fancied him and that the feeling was mutual, but found that his brain was not cooperating. Instead, he found himself responding to her touch, and he set his plate down to wrap his arms around her, carrying her to the bedroom.

He hated himself as he watched Renee undress, hated that he was doing this to her, hated that he was a coward and a fool and so, so very weak. He hated that he loved a girl who was thousands of miles away, instead of the wonderful woman in front of him. He didn't deserve either of them, but for some unfathomable reason they both, at some point, decided that he was worthy of their love. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world as Renee undressed him and led him to bed and he willed himself to stop thinking and lose himself in the moment.

When he closed his eyes, it wasn't Renee beneath him. It was Rose.

* * *

Two weeks before Christmas, Renee showed up at John's flat, parcel in hand. He hadn't been expecting her, and was surprised to find her standing before him.

"Come in, come in."

She entered without giving him a kiss, instead passing by him and sitting on the sofa. "We need to talk, John."

He had a feeling this did not bode well. He sat down and looked at her, waiting.

Renee blushed prettily under his scrutiny, and she smiled. "Before I say anything, I just want you to know that I'm doing this because I care about you and want you to be happy."

"Okay."

"You love her. It's written all over your face every time someone mentions her name." She paused, hoping he would deny it. When he didn't, she continued. "You may not want to admit it, but you do. And there is no doubt in my mind that she loves you. So this is me, telling you to go and love her."

Stunned, he looked at her. "You're breaking up with me?"

"It's not what I want to do," she replied. "But I feel like it's something I need to do. I don't make you happy, John. Not like she does."

"How do you know?" he asked her, his voice more harsh than he intended.

In reply, she got up and walked around the flat, returning with a handful of photos, all of him and Rose. "Because you never smile like that for me."

John ran a hand through his hair, and Renee took it and gave it a squeeze.

"It's okay, John. I'm not mad. I just wish that I could make you as happy as she does." She picked up the parcel and handed it to him. "This is my gift to you. Right now you may not be ready to understand why I'm giving it to you, but in time, when you're ready to understand…you will. And you will understand why I'm doing this."

"I don't…I don't have anything for you," he stammered, embarrassment flooding his veins.

"I didn't expect that you would." She stood and kissed the top of his head. "Goodbye, my angel."

The door closed softly behind her, and John sat on the couch, wondering what exactly had happened to his life.


	7. The Talk

It took him six months to open Renee's parting gift to him; a hard-bound copy of _The Little Prince_, which he promptly tucked away, unread. It took him four more months to pull it out and begin reading it, and once he started he found that it was a good read.

"Isn't that a kid's book?" Jack asked from behind a stack of library books. Their last year in university was upon them, and Jack had finally discovered the library. He had found that using the library made writing his papers much easier, and was currently trying to bring up his grades before graduation.

"Yeah," John replied. "It was Renee's last gift to me."

"Interesting." Jack picked up his laptop and began typing. "How far into it are you?"

"Not far, reading it when I need a break from physics. Why?"

"Well, obviously she gave it to you for a reason. Just wondering if you'd found the reason yet."

"No."

"Oh. Well, let me know when you do."

It wasn't until nearly Christmas that the meaning of the book was revealed to him, through an unlikely source: his sister.

Donna was now working for the newspaper full-time, a university graduate sharing a flat with two other girls. She didn't often get a lunch break, but when she did she liked to meet her brother in a pub that was close to the university.

On this particular day he had the book with him, reading as he waited for her to arrive. When she did arrive, she gave him an odd look as she sat down. "A children's book?"

"Gift from Renee," he said, not looking up. "She said that eventually I'd understand why she gave it to me."

"And do you?"

"Not as such, no."

Donna took the book from him and thumped him on the head. "Have you actually finished the book?"

"Yes, twice," he replied, snatching the book back.

"You are thick," she said. "Big old genius like you can't puzzle out why she would have given you this gift? What the hidden meaning is?"

John rolled his eyes. "Well why don't you tell me."

"I will. It's about relationships."

"You don't say?" he replied with a cheeky grin.

"Oi! Don't you get smart with me." Donna grabbed the book back and began to flip through it. "The prince, he has this flower that he loves, this rose. And he leaves her to go out and travel."

"I don't need a recap."

"Shut it. He realizes that he loves this rose, and what makes her special is that he loves her. He doesn't realize this at first, but he learns that the joy of relationships, what we get when we love someone, is that what we give is so much more important than what we get. He gives everything for this rose of his, and he realizes that she has tamed him and made everything around him so much more. They need each other. And when the prince finally realizes this, he stops at nothing to get back to his rose."

He looked at her blankly.

"You're the prince, you dumbo. And Rose is…well, the rose."

He grabbed the book back and looked at it, then looked at Donna. "What?"

"Oi you're thick," she said. "It's a metaphor. Rose has tamed your stupid arse." She sighed. "Go back and read it again. And whenever you read about the rose, think about your Rose."

That night he holed up in his room and read the book again, Donna's words echoing in his ears. By the time he reached the end of the book he was in awe of Renee's selflessness and insight, hating himself for hurting her like he did.

He was also ready to admit that he loved Rose, and that he had for years. Regret washed over him; he'd wasted so much time trying to pretend that he didn't love her, and in the process he'd hurt her deeply and ruined the best friendship he'd ever had.

He read the last pages of the book again, hope blooming in his chest. Maybe it wasn't too late for him to get back to his Rose, to prove to her how much he loved her. Maybe he'd still be able to fix the mess he'd made.

Two days later, John sat down and wrote Renee a note, apologizing profusely for how he had treated her, and thanking her for the book. He let her know that her words had not gone unheard, and that he admired her courage and grace. He dropped it in the post, and went back to his flat to wait for Donna and Jack.

He didn't have long to wait, as they arrived shortly after 6 with a six pack of beer and pizza. Once everyone had settled, Donna gave her brother a look. "So what's so urgent you had to see us tonight?"

"I've been accepted into a program in the States." Donna opened her mouth to say something and he held up his hand. "I'm taking it. I already accepted. But there's a stipulation attached, which is what I want your advice on."

"Go on," Donna said.

"They want me to do a fourth year, not necessarily graduate work, but want me to at least get my feet wet teaching and working with a professor who can help me at least begin to formulate a dissertation topic." He pulled out six letters. "Each of these places has offered me a one-year position. I know which one I want, but what I want and what I should do are two different things. I want your advice; if you were me, in my situation, which would you choose?"

Donna and Jack read through the letters, then looked at each other. "Does it matter which one you choose? Academically, I mean," Jack asked. "The Americans won't rescind their decision if you choose someplace like Glasgow over Oxford?"

"No. I was given a list of professors that would be willing to work with me, so I only contacted those schools."

"And which one do you want?" Donna asked.

"I'll tell you after you two tell me which you think I should take."

Donna looked at the letters again, this time taking a good look at the letterheads. When she saw one of them was Cardiff, she looked up at her brother with a smile. "You know which one I pick."

"Me too," Jack chimed in. "You really didn't even need to ask."

John grinned, feeling lighter than he had in quite some time. "Glad we're all in agreement. Now for my other question: what will it take to get Rose back?"

* * *

It didn't usually snow in London, so when it began to snow on Christmas Eve Rose was overjoyed. She sat in her window and watched as her street was blanketed in a cloud of white, thinking how peaceful it looked. She saw John emerge from his house and turn towards her window, offering her a small wave.

She waved back. After a moment, she opened the window. "Come up."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

He was up the tree and through the window in what Rose swore was no time flat. He landed on his bum with a _thud_ and Rose giggled. "Some things never change."

"Oi," he said with a mock-scowl. "My arse isn't the only thing bruised."

Rose rolled her eyes at him. "How was your term at school? Ready to graduate?"

"Well," he said, running his hand through his hair nervously, "Looks like I'll be headed to your neck of the woods next year."

"My neck of the…you mean Wales?" Rose felt her pulse speed up. He was coming to Wales? Why?

"More like Cardiff." He gave a bashful laugh. "I've been accepted to a program in America, but I'm doing a gap-year kind of thing in Cardiff. Going to be teaching, working on a dissertation topic."

Not just Wales, but to _Cardiff_. Rose was unsure how she felt about this. "Will Renee be coming with you?" she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. She wanted to hear it from him, wanted confirmation that he and Renee were no longer together. And a small part of her that she was not very proud of wanted to make him squirm.

"Renee? No, she's uh…we're…" He mentally kicked himself. This was a good thing, so why was he so scared to tell her? He took a deep breath. "We broke up. Last year."

"Oh." Hope blossomed in Rose's chest. He was no longer with Renee, and he was coming to spend a year in Cardiff. "So…nobody else then?" she asked, not really allowing herself to look at him for fear that he'd see the hope in her eyes.

"No. Nobody else. Not for awhile now." His phone trilled and he reached into his pocket to retrieve it. "Donna. I'm being summoned for dinner." He looked at her for a moment, his heart pounding so hard he was surprised she couldn't hear it. "We should go out later this week, get chips."

"Sounds good."

John moved towards the window, and Rose laughed. "You can take the stairs, you know."

"Nah, like my way better. More Romeo-and-Juliet." He grinned at her before climbing down the tree, and Rose was left wondering just what he meant by that comment.

* * *

On Boxing Day, Rose and Donna hit the shops. After hours of standing in lines and muddling through crowds, they finally settled down for lunch, relieved to be off their feet.

"This is mental," Donna said, tucking into her burger. "And I feel like I haven't talked to you in ages. What's new?"

"The usual-school, work, trying to find time to have a social life." Rose took a sip of her soda. "You know your brother is coming to Wales for a year."

"I was aware." Donna studied her friend critically. "And how do you feel about that?"

Rose shrugged. "Dunno. It's not like he's coming for me or anything."

"And that is where you are wrong." Donna gestured to Rose with a chip. "He chose Cardiff specifically because you were there."

"What?" She could hardly believe her ears, but Donna wasn't one to lie to her. "Pull the other one."

"No, really." Donna rolled her eyes. "Oi, sometimes you're as thick as he is. That postcard you sent him, that was you letting him know he still had a chance. Am I right?"

Rose flushed. "But it's been a year now, and…"

"And it took him that long to get his head out of his arse. Look, I don't know how much he's told you, but he and Renee have been over for ages, and there hasn't been anyone since. Not that some haven't tried, but he's really done a turnaround. All he does is study and work and moon over you."

"That's not…no," she stammered. "There hasn't been anyone else? At all?"

"None that Jack or I know of." Donna looked at her friend, brow furrowed. "You do still love him, yeah?"

Rose flushed. "Yeah. Can't seem to shake it."

"Like a rash, that one." Donna patted her hand. "He's been like a monk. He's waiting for you."

Rose sat there in silence, not sure how she felt about this news. Had he really chosen Cardiff for her? And did he really moon over her? And why did this make her nervous? She shook the thoughts from her head and smiled at her friend. "Enough about your brother. Tell me about Lee."

* * *

On her first day of classes, she hadn't been expecting to see John; they'd talked a couple of days before, and he had said he was spending the day shadowing his mentor so he'd not be able to meet her for lunch. It was a pleasant surprise to find him waiting outside her lecture with a smile.

They'd been spending a lot of time together since John had graduated from uni. They met for lunch (with Donna and Jack) once a week, and John would come home on the weekends to help his mother around the house and spend time with Rose. They spent countless hours together, and it was almost like nothing between them had ever been amiss. Neither of them had been this happy in years.

In Wales, things remained very much the same. They spent their free time together, seeing movies and doing pub quizzes once a week. Although both were busy with lectures (and John with his teaching and research) they always made time for each other.

As the weeks wore on, Rose found that she missed him when he wasn't there. She had her own friends and her own life, but he had wriggled his way back into her life and now she couldn't remember what life had been like when they were apart. It both frustrated and frightened her; she hadn't wanted to let him get this close again, but he had and there was nothing she could (or wanted) to do about it. So they continued on as they had been, spending their free time together, growing closer, Donna's words ringing in her ears the entire time.

They had just finished drinks at a pub a few blocks from Rose's flat and John was walking her home when the skies opened, the rain falling in heavy sheets. They ducked under an awning and waited for the rain to let up, but it only seemed to get worse.

"Come on," John said, grabbing her hand. "It's only two blocks, we can run for it."

Rose looked at him, then grinned. "You're still a nutter, you know."

"Oh yes!" He tugged her out from under the awning, and hand in hand they ran to her flat, laughing the entire way. By the time they reacher her door they were soaked, and the storm had only gotten worse.

"Come in," she said, pulling him inside. "I'm sure I can find something to fit you. And you can't go back out in this, you'll catch your death."

Once inside, they managed to get rid of their sodden shoes before Rose disappeared into her bedroom. "Don't sit on anything! Go in the bathroom and start getting undressed, yeah? I'll bring you something."

He was wrestling with sodden denim when Rose knocked and the door opened, her hand appearing in the small opening. "The pants might be too short, but the shirt should be okay."

"Do I want to know why you have a pair of men's jimjam bottoms?" he asked, tossing his jeans into the shower so he could wring them out. He hoped he didn't sound as jealous as he thought he might.

"Martha's boyfriend's," she replied. "Bring your clothes to me, I'll toss them in the dryer."

When he emerged, he handed the pile of clothes to her. "I feel bad for putting you out like this."

She scoffed. "Please. You aren't." She handed him his jeans back. "Did you check the pockets? Don't want to have something weird melting in my dryer." She watched with interest as he rummaged through his pockets, pulling out several odds and ends and finally an old pocket watch, the one she'd given him all those years ago. "You still have it," she said, tears pricking behind her eyes.

"Course I do. It's the best gift I've ever gotten." He turned the watch over in his hand. "Did you think I'd get rid of it just because you were mad at me? Or is that what you did with my gift to you?" John's heart sank, not wanting to know the answer to that and yet dying to know. He fervently hoped that she hadn't.

"No! No. I have them. I just…" she trailed off with a shrug, not wanting to tell him that she'd put them in a dark corner of her jewelry box because the memory of them hurt too much. She took the jeans back from him and threw their clothes in the dryer.

"Just what?" He wanted to hear it from her, wanted her to tell him that it was because the memory hurt because he needed the confirmation that what had happened between them still meant just as much to her as it had to him.

Rose busied herself with boiling water for tea and putting some beans on to warm. "I don't-didn't-wear them very much."

"Why not?"

"Because it hurts, okay?" Rose set the mugs down for tea a little more forcefully than necessary. "Because they remind me of you and…what happened." She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She did not want to talk about this, not when their friendship had become so close again. "So, I know beans on toast isn't glamorous, but it's all I've got. Is that okay?"

It was all the impetus he needed. In three quick strides he was standing behind her, and when she turned to ask him about dinner, he was standing within a hairsbreadth of her. He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before bringing his mouth down to hers.

Rose swore that time stopped; his kisses seemed to have that effect on her. She was lost in the feeling of his lips on hers, on the gentle glide of his tongue against hers when she remembered that this is what had caused all the trouble in the first place. She pulled away, tears filling her eyes. "What are you doing? Why are you kissing me?" Rose shoved him away and moved past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She sank down onto the closed toilet and cried, burying her face in her hands.

This was not going as John had expected. He followed her, leaning against the door. "Rose, can I explain?" he asked, wanting so very badly to get this right and fighting the feeling that he had mucked it up once again.

"Explain what?" she said through her sobs. "There's nothing to explain. I was stupid for ever trusting you again!"

He opened the bathroom door and knelt before her, pulling her hands away from her face and holding them in his own. "Don't cry Rose, please don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry."

"Then stop making me cry!" she shouted. "Stop playing with my feelings! Don't make me think and hope that you want something more!"

"But I do." He moved one hand up to her face, wiping her tears away with his thumb. "I want so much more with you, Rose Tyler."

"What?" she asked, disbelieving.

"I love you, Rose, I have for years. And I know I cocked it up and made a right mess of things. For so long I was afraid of what I felt for you and how deeply I felt for you, and I let my denial make the decisions for me. I hurt you, I hurt Renee, and you have every right to hate me."

Rose shook her head. "I don't hate you."

"You should." He laughed, feeling more free than he had in years. "I would hate me, were I in your place. But you…you're too good, too kind for 're amazing and beautiful and I'm so in love with you that it hurts. And I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life loving you."

Rose shook her head. "No, you're just saying that." She looked up at him, her brown eyes shining. "This is what you do…you kiss me like that and you say pretty, untrue things and make me want you and then you hurt me." She removed his hand from her face, anger welling up inside of her. "I'm not sixteen anymore, John. I'm not going to fall for your pretty words again, I'm not going to let you hurt me like that again."

"It's not just words, Rose." He ran a hand through his hair. "I know I never told you about Renee, and that I should have. I've learned my lesson. I was stupid to keep it from you, and in the end it ruined our friendship." He sighed. "You have every right not to trust me. It's my own fault that you don't. But let me ask you: the entire time I've been here, have you seen me do anything, say anything, that would lead you to believe that what I'm saying is a lie? How many girls have I gone out with?"

Rose sighed and shrugged, the anger suddenly draining from her. She was so tired of fighting with him, fighting her feelings for him. "Dunno."

"None. I've not had one date, gotten one phone number. And do you know why?"

"No."

"Because I was already with the one person I wanted to be with." He took her hands again, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. "About six months ago, I came to the realization that running away from you and how I felt about you wasn't worth it. I caused so much hurt and made such a mess of things that I decided that I didn't want to do that anymore. So I admitted to myself what everyone else knew all along, and decided that I had to find some way, any way, to make you see how serious I was." He looked into her eyes. "I could have gone any number of places, but I chose to come here because of you. I wanted to come here and prove to you that I have changed and that I love you. Only you. That I've only ever loved you."

Rose closed her eyes, not wanting to believe what he was saying. "I don't believe you," she said without conviction. "It can't be true."

"It is. Every word of it is gospel truth." He kissed her hands. "I love you, Rose. Let me prove it to you."

His lips found hers again and this time, she didn't resist. Her hands slid into his hair as their lips met, and he pulled her off of the toilet lid and into his lap, holding her as close as he could. For a moment Rose forgot where she was and what she was doing, reveling in the feeling of his arms around her and his tongue against hers. When they breathlessly parted, she rested her forehead against his for a moment before asking, "Do you smell something burning?"

Realization hit them both at once. "Shit!"

The beans had burned, congealing to the bottom of the pot in a black mess. Rose turned off the hob and sighed. "I ruined dinner."

"We'll have sandwiches." He leaned over and kissed her neck before he reached up into the cabinet for plates and peanut butter.

She sighed as she began trying to dislodge the burned mess from the bottom of the pot. "Not much of a dinner."

"Ah, it's fine." He set about making them sandwiches.

Rose scrubbed and scrubbed the pot, finally just letting it soak in soapy water in the hopes that the disgusting mess would loosen. She turned to find he'd made two peanut butter sandwiches with strawberry jam, crusts cut off the way her mother used to do. It made her smile and she looked over at him. "You did love Mum's sandwiches."

"She always managed the perfect jam-to-peanut-butter ratio," he said with a grin. They tucked in, and Rose couldn't help but giggle a little. "What?" he asked.

"Just…this was us, every summer day."

"Except I inevitably had skinned knees, and your hair was always a mess." He chuckled a bit. "Well, not a mess for the same reason it's a mess now."

Her hands flew to her hair and her eyes widened. "You didn't tell me I looked a fright!"

"I think you look gorgeous." The honesty in his eyes was startling, and Rose felt a giddy nervousness in her stomach. On impulse, she ran off to her room, and ran a brush through her hair before digging into the dark recesses of her jewelry box to pull out the delicate ivory combs. She arranged them in her hair and returned to the table, blushing slightly out of both nerves and embarrassment.

John reached up and touched one, his fingers trailing along the intricate carving before moving to her face to brush the apples of her cheeks. He leaned in and kissed her again, this time with more urgency, and Rose felt a tremor of arousal course through her veins. She fisted her hands in the shirt he was wearing before sliding them up and around his neck to thread her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. She had no idea how long they'd been kissing-it had felt like hours and yet like no time at all-when the dryer buzzed loudly and startled them both.

Panting, John pulled back and wiped a smudge of jam from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. "I think that's my cue."

Her heart sank and she looked at him with hurt and confusion written all over her face. "What?"

"Our clothes are dry. I should get going." He hated the look on her face, so he kissed it away. "I'm not doing a runner. I promise."

"But…I mean…don't you want to…stay?" she asked, uncomprehending.

"I want more than anything to stay tonight, every night," he replied, his voice low with desire. "But I didn't want to presume. And I thought maybe you'd want to sit and have a think before we…"

"Oh," Rose breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought maybe this was…I dunno what I thought." She bit her lip shyly. "But I'd like you to stay."

"Rose," he began, his eyes filled with hope.

"We're gonna sit down and talk, and then we'll see how things go, yeah?" she said, taking his hand. "Because we have some things to work out if this-" she gestured between them, "is gonna work."

"Yeah." He gave her a look. "Although this could take hours as I am a complete mess."

She squeezed his hand. "S'ok, I like a challenge."

* * *

"Where do we start?" he asked, sitting down on the couch in Rose's living room and pulling her down with him.

She tucked her feet under his legs. "I hear the beginning is a good place to start," she replied with a grin.

"Oi, cheeky." He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. "Just…ask me a question and we'll go from there."

"The night before you left for uni. You kissed me and said these beautiful things and…why?" Rose fought the tears she felt pricking behind her eyes.

John sighed. "I meant them-I mean, I did then and I do now. But I was scared, it was a huge and scary thing and you were the one thing I felt like I could count on. And I wouldn't have admitted it then, but I had all these…feelings for you, feelings that I thought I shouldn't be having because we were best mates."

"So you went of to uni and found yourself a girlfriend." She swallowed hard, willing herself not to cry. She hated to bring this painful history up, but she knew it had to be done.

"Now to be fair, it wasn't quite like that," he said, and Rose gave him a knowing look. "Okay, it was kind of like that. But I had this foolish idea that if I met someone who wasn't you that I could eventually feel about them the way I felt-feel-about you." John squeezed her hand.

"Oh." Rose nodded. "So you fell in love with Renee."

John sighed. "I wouldn't say I loved her. I certainly cared about her, but it wasn't the same." He gave her a small smile, wanting to reassure her.

"So on that Christmas Eve…why did you snog me? And why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend?" Rose hated that she sounded so…needy, so angry, but she had to know why he had hurt her so badly.

"The simple explanation is because I'm an idiot of the highest order." Rose chuckled and nodded. "The complicated answer is because I thought I had fooled myself into not being in love with you. And then you hugged me, and suddenly all I could think about was kissing you, touching you." He brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a kiss on her palm, wanting to reassure her of his feelings for her. "I wanted you so much and it terrifies me. Still does, actually."

"Why does it scare you?" she asked, genuinely curious and not a little hurt. Why would he be scared of loving her?

"At seventeen years old, falling in love with the girl next door? It was terrifying. Here you are, my best mate, we used to spend hours together doing anything and everything, and then one day we go swimming and suddenly I realize you've gone and gotten yourself breasts and hips and a really, really great arse and I was having all of these not-just-friendly feelings. It was horrible. I felt awful, thinking about you that way." John blushed and looked away. "I felt…I don't know, dirty. Like I shouldn't be wanting you like I did."

She blushed. "You mean like…physically."

"Yeah. God, being around you gave me a constant knob-on." John flushed more deeply, chuckling. "It made me feel bad because it was _you_, my best mate, and spending time with my best mate shouldn't be making me want to have a wank."

Rose couldn't suppress a giggle. "So every time I called you a wanker, I was right."

"More right than I'd like to admit." He laughed again, clearly embarrassed. "So can you see how this was a problem, yeah? Why I'd be such a-for lack of a better term-a wanker?"

"I…yeah." She squeezed his hand. "Why couldn't you just say something to me? I mean, did you think I would get mad? Walk away?"

"I don't know. I didn't want to freak you out." He shrugged. "And honestly, I was afraid. If you didn't want me, I'd have been heartbroken. And if you did want me…well, that's a whole different issue."

"If you had said something, you'd have discovered that I felt the same way." She brought his hand to her lips and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

John's eyes widened in surprise, and he laughed. "That would have created a whole new set of problems. We'd have been shagging on every available surface."

Rose smiled. "Pity, that."

"I never wanted to hurt you," he said, and Rose saw the honesty in his eyes. "I didn't set out to hurt you, I just never stopped to consider that what I was doing would hurt you. And I hurt lots of people in the process."

She nodded, feeling much better about everything that had happened. He'd never been so open and honest with her, and she felt like she could trust him again, like he had done enough penance. She moved to his lap and pulled his head down to hers and snogged him thoroughly, tangling her hands in his hair.

"So I'm forgiven?" he asked, gently rubbing his nose against hers.

"As long as you promise to never hide things from me again," Rose replied with a grin.

"Then you won't be upset if I tell you I don't think I should stay?" Rose began to protest, but he silenced her with a kiss. "I'm trying to be a gentleman, Rose."

Rose blushed and gave him a coy look. "Maybe I don't want you to be a gentleman."

"I just…I want you to make sure it's what you want. I don't want to jump into sex with you. It's going to mean a lot to me, and I want it to mean a lot to you, too." He kissed her again, tenderly and so, so sweetly that Rose almost whimpered. "I love you."

"Quite right, too."

"I deserved that." He tucked an errant piece of hair behind her ear. "When you can say it back to me and mean it, and trust that I won't hurt you again…then we'll discuss it. Because you're the last woman I plan on ever having sex with, so I want you to make sure that's what you want."

She nodded, finally understanding what he was offering her. "Yeah."

"Good." He kissed her again, then stood to gather his belongings, disappearing into the bathroom to change his clothes. When he emerged, Rose was waiting for him by the front door.

"I'll call you in the morning," he said, leaning over to give her one last kiss before he disappeared into the damp night.


	8. The First Time

The weeks passed, and John, true to his word, did his level best to prove to her that he had changed. When they weren't in lectures, doing schoolwork, or working, they were together doing all the ordinary things that couples do: dinners, movies, pub quizzes. John never tried to push things much beyond serious snogging, and after what Rose felt was an eternity (but was closer to five weeks) she was ready for them to take things farther.

She'd been with other guys, not just Jack, but this time…it felt different. It felt special. She felt like she should mark the occasion, and after some deliberation she decided how she could make it memorable for both of them.

One afternoon she skipped a lecture and made her way down to the high street in search of a small boutique she had seen before. Heart in her throat, she found it tucked between a shoe shop and a hair salon, and after a deep breath to calm her nerves she entered.

"Hello!" a French-accented voice called out. "I will be with you in a moment!"

"Sure, no rush," Rose replied, reaching out to touch a beautiful red corset. It was lovely, but not quite what she was looking for.

"Hello! What can I do for you today?" The voice belonged to a woman about her mother's age, who now stood before her, smiling.

"I, uh, I'm looking for some…things. Bras, knickers, a nightie." Rose hoped she sounded more confident than she felt, but was pretty sure she didn't.

The woman eyed Rose critically, appraising her. "Anything in particular you are looking for? Colors, styles?"

Rose shook her head.

The woman led her to a fitting room and then disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a handful of bras. "I think I have the correct size, I'm usually very good at determining sizes. Let's try these on, shall we? I brought some of my most popular styles, and a few I thought you might like." Rose flushed again, and the woman laughed. "My dear, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. In my line of work, I've seen more naked women than most men. Now let's get these on."

Rose undressed and allowed the woman to help her put on a beautiful black silk bra, slightly padded with pretty lavender accents. She helped Rose adjust the garment, and when she looked at herself in the mirror she smiled. "It's lovely."

"You are lovely. The garment only enhances it." The woman smiled at her. "And I think your gentleman friend would approve, yes?"

Rose's face burned. "How did you know?"

"_Mon chéri_, I know. Is it your…first time?"

"No! I mean, with him, yes." Rose didn't know why she had admitted it to this woman, then reasoned that the woman had had her hands on Rose's breasts so there really was no reason not to.

"He is a lucky man, then." She helped Rose into another bra, this one a lovely ivory silk with crimson accents. "I recommend purchasing two sets of knickers for each brassiere. I have several styles ranging from conservative to…less conservative."

She showed Rose a range of knickers, from a retro-style that looked almost like shorts to regular bikinis to ones with nothing in the back save a satin bow. She chose several pair of the regular bikini knickers for each bra she had chosen, and a racier pair for each as well. Rose also chose several simple triangle bras made out of silk and several pair of simple silk knickers to match.

"What kind of loungewear were you looking for?" the woman asked as she sorted through the items Rose had tried on.

"I dunno," Rose admitted. "I don't think he'd fancy a corset or anything…He's the kind of bloke who likes to leave some things to the imagination, you know?"

"I do indeed. I'll be right back." Rose stood there with her arms crossed across her breasts, glad when the woman returned. "I have two here that I think you will like."

The first nightie was a deep wine color with a deep white lace v-neck and spaghetti straps. It was soft and very beautiful, but not what Rose had imagined. "I dunno. I think it's…too much?"

The moment Rose put the second nightie on, she knew it was the one…the palest of pinks, it was a simple silk shift with cream colored lace at the top and bottom. She saw the woman smiling at her in the mirror, and grinned back. "This one."

Rose got dressed while the woman rang up her purchases: five bras, sixteen pairs of knickers, a nightgown and a dressing gown. Rose winced at the total-the equivalent of four paychecks at her part-time job-but she had been saving her money religiously and she was meticulous about her budget. This, she decided, was worth it.

"I hope we'll see you again," the woman said as she handed Rose her bag. "And maybe next time you'll bring your young man with you."

Rose laughed. "I don't know that he'll want to join me, but I will be back."

"Ask him," the woman replied with a knowing look. "You might be surprised."

* * *

That Friday night, Rose let herself into John's flat with the extra key he had given her, knowing he would be busy until at least eight. That gave her about an hour. She set her purse on the table and took her rucksack into the bedroom.

The overhead light was too harsh, she decided, so she instead used the lamp on the bedside table. It wasn't great, but with a distinct lack of options it was the best she could do. She straightened the bed and took one last look around before taking her rucksack and heading for the bathroom.

She changed and curled her hair, using the ivory combs he'd given her, then applied the barest amount of makeup. She was just finishing when she heard the door to the flat open. She heard the sound of keys hitting the table, and then his voice called out. "Rose?"

"In here," she called, checking her reflection one last time. She smoothed the dressing gown nervously, hoping she looked more confident than she felt, and went to wait for him in the bedroom.

"This has been the longest day," she heard him say as a stack of books hit the table. "I swear, the holidays can't come fast-" he entered the bedroom, his voice trailing off when he saw her standing there. For a moment he was speechless.

Rose blushed and made to turn away, embarrassed, but before she could she found herself in his arms, his lips on hers in a deep, searching kiss.

"You're beautiful," he said, trailing kisses across her jaw to her ear, nipping at her earlobe.

"So this is…okay?"

"It's brilliant is what it is," he replied, sucking gently on her neck. "Bloody brilliant. _Molto bene._" He moved his way back up to her mouth, where he kissed her with a passion she had yet to experience with him. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, breathing heavily.

She nodded. "Never more sure about anything in my life. I love you."

It was the first time she had said it since that night so many years ago, and his face broke out into the biggest grin she'd ever seen. "You do?"

"Yeah. Always have."

He kissed her again, moving his hand to the tie of her dressing gown. The silk slipped easily out of it's knot and he pushed it off of her shoulders, and he skimmed his hands around to her silk covered bum and pulled her against him.

Rose sighed into his mouth and threaded her fingers through his hair as their kiss became more heated. She could feel his hardness pressing against her stomach and she shifted against it, causing him to groan. He tore his mouth from hers and swept her up into his arms, laying her gently in the middle of the bed and toeing off his trainers before his mouth descended on her neck again.

"You're so beautiful," John said, his breath a whisper across her skin as he kissed his way down to her shoulder. He slipped the strap off her shoulder and pulled the delicate fabric down, exposing one breast. He bent his head and took the rosy peak into his mouth, nipping and sucking until it was hard. He then moved to her other shoulder and did the same, slipping the strap down enough to expose her breast.

"Why don't you take it off, yeah?" she asked breathlessly.

John sat up and tore off his own jumper and vest before sliding his hands under her nightgown and over her head. The sight of her beneath him in nothing but a pair of barely-there knickers the color of her nightgown took his breath away, and he found a lump forming in his throat. He'd dreamed of this, but the reality was so much better.

Rose furrowed her brow. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he replied with a laugh. "I just…it's not often reality is better than fantasy."

She flushed deeply and he bent to kiss her again, one hand teasing a nipple as his mouth burned a trail from her mouth to her neck to her other breast. She shifted her hips beneath him and he made a small sound in the back of his throat that made her smile. She did it again, and this time he pulled away from her breast and looked at her.

"I want to take my time," he said.

He kissed his way down her stomach, circling her navel while his hands skimmed down her hips, and gently slid the scrap of silk down her legs. Standing, he tossed them aside before shucking his own socks and trousers. He took one of her long legs and brought his mouth down to it, licking and kissing a path up to the apex of her thighs.

Rose sighed as her thighs parted, and John gently ran a finger from her opening to her clit, causing her to moan. He lay himself down between her legs and ran his tongue up the same path as his finger, circling her nub with his tongue before returning to her opening to lick and suck her. Rose fisted her fingers in his hair and tugged gently, thrusting against his tongue until she began to tremble. John pulled away just before she fell over the edge, and she whimpered.

"I want to watch your face when you come," he whispered as he crawled up her body, his hand now hovering where his mouth had just been. He leaned on one hand as he pushed two fingers inside of her, using his thumb to gently rub and circle her clit. "I want to see how beautiful you are when you come," he whispered to her, gently sucking on her earlobe. "I want to hear all the sounds you make," he bit her earlobe gently before moving to suck at her clavicle, his hand working between her legs, "and I want to watch your body tremble." Rose began thrusting her hips against his hand, seeking more friction, and John leaned over to pull her nipple into his mouth, biting gently. She moaned again, desperate for release.

"I've dreamed of this, Rose, of making love to you," he said, his breath hot against her ear. "Dreamed of you beneath me, on top of me, of my mouth in between your legs for hours." He kissed her briefly. "I fully intend to spend an entire afternoon using my tongue to make you come as many times as I can, but right now I just want to watch you come." He increased the pressure on her clit and a moment later he felt her walls clench around his fingers and she moaned, her hips thrusting against his hand as pleasure washed over her.

"You're so gorgeous when you come," he said, kissing her softly as her breathing returned to normal. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Giving him a grin, Rose slid her hand under the elastic of his boxers and grasped his length in her hand. "How about using this to see it again?" she teased as her thumb traced circles around the sensitive head.

"Oh, I intend to," he replied, allowing her to slip his pants off. She eyed his length appraisingly, and he cocked an eyebrow. "See something you like?"

"Indeed I do." Firmly she grasped him, giving him several firm strokes. She ran the tip through her wetness, teasing her clit with the head before moving it back down to her opening. "I want this inside me."

"Condom," he gasped, reaching for the bedside table.

Rose stopped him. "I'm on the pill, and I'm clean. Got tested before I went to Rome, and I haven't been with anyone since before then." She ran the head of his cock through her wetness again.

"I'm clean," he gasped. "Had to get a clean bill of health for a student visa."

"Then what are you waiting for?" she asked, positioning him at her opening.

Slowly and gently he moved, sliding into her until he was buried to the hilt. Rose threw her head back, reveling in the sensation of fullness. Spurred on, John lifted one leg and wrapped it around his bicep before pulling out and thrusting into her again.

Her groan was guttural, almost animal as she thrust her hips against his, seeking more friction, more pressure. John bent forward slightly and sucked a nipple into his mouth, biting softly as he pounded into her. He was rewarded with a sharp cry of pleasure and he smiled. With his other hand he reached between their bodies to rub her clit and a moment later he felt her inner muscles fluttering around him as she moaned and writhed beneath him.

A moment later she arched off the bed, a low moan escaping her throat and she clung to him, her hips moving of their own volition as her inner muscles gripped his cock. He thrust a few more times before his orgasm overtook him, his hot seed spilling into her.

They clung to each other for several long moments, hips still thrusting as they eased down from their orgasms. Finally John collapsed on top of her, dropping soft kisses across her eyes and nose. "I love you, Rose Tyler."

He rolled off of her, and she whimpered at the loss of him between her legs. He snuggled up behind her, pressing his front into her back and kissed her shoulders and neck as they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Rose awoke and peered at the digital clock on the bedside table. It was the wee hours of the morning, too early to get up, but the cool air at her back let her know John was no longer spooned up behind her. She rolled over and found him propped up in bed, book in hand. She reached over and plucked the book from his hands, looking curiously at the cover.

"I…you're reading this?" she asked, puzzled. "Why?"

"Believe it or not," he said, giving her a smile, "because I like it."

"Well yeah, it's a great book. I just didn't think it was your type of book."

"It was a gift. From Renee, actually. She gave it to me when we broke up."

"Oh."

Rose looked uneasy, and he laughed as he reached out and gently stroked her cheek. "She knew I was in love with you. This was her way of showing me what she already knew."

"Oh." Rose let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. "Seems kinda…odd."

"Well, odd or not, it's what got me to realize how I felt about you."

She set the book on the bedside table and moved so that she was facing him. "And how is that?" she asked coyly.

"Absolutely besotted," he replied with a grin. "Utterly, completely, totally ass-over-elbow in love with you."

Grinning, Rose got on her knees and began to kiss his neck, her hand slipping beneath the covers to wrap around his rapidly hardening cock. "Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes," he chuckled, bringing one hand up to gently trace her nipple.

"Tell me more about what you want to do to me," she said, her hand moving slowly up and down along his length as her teeth nipped at his pulse point.

"I want to bend you over and take you from behind," he replied, his eyes fluttering shut. "I want to watch you touch yourself, want to watch you make yourself come, then lick your fingers clean."

"What else?" She bit down on his nipple, then soothed it with the flat of her tongue.

"I want to spend an entire day making you come, want to fuck you so hard you can't walk." Rose bent down and took his length into her mouth, and John moaned. He stopped talking and reveled in the sensation of her tongue massaging his cock, and he could feel his orgasm rapidly approaching. "Rose," he gasped, tugging on her hair, and she sat up and straddled his slim waist.

"I love it when you talk dirty," Rose said, slipping her hand between them and grabbing his pulsing cock to rub it between her folds. After a few swipes she sank down on him, the sparse hair on his chest tickling her breasts. She began to move up and down on him, her arms around his neck and her mouth nipping at his ear.

"Do you now?" he replied, biting her shoulder gently. "Because I could talk dirty to you all day."

"Next time," she replied, bringing his hand between them and using his fingers to rub her clit. "Next time you can tell me all the naughty things you want to do to me." His fingers picked up speed and she gasped, tightening around him. John bent his head to take a nipple into his mouth and she cried out, throwing her head back.

A moment later she cried out again, her hips moving of their own accord as a powerful orgasm hit her deep inside. She continued to move on him, the sensation becoming more and more powerful as the head of his cock hit just the right spot. The tightening of her muscles around him pulled his own orgasm from him, milking him as her own orgasm continued.

Breathless, flushed, and panting heavily, Rose collapsed against his chest. John moved them down so they were lying on the bed, holding her close as her body trembled from pleasure.

Smiling down at her, he brushed a piece of hair off of her sweaty, glowing face. "Good?"

"Better than." She kissed his palm. "I love you. So much."

"How long are you gonna stay with me?" he asked.

"Forever," Rose replied, before succumbing to sleep once again.


	9. The America Question

Time began to pass in a blur. Before Rose knew it, it was going on November and the days had become downright frigid. Soon it would be Christmas, and she'd be home in London for three weeks, her last real vacation before she had to go and find a job and start a career.

On one damp evening in early November, she and John were eating pizza in front of the telly when out of the blue he said, "Come to America with me." They had yet to speak about the future, but he knew without a doubt that he wanted-no, _needed_-her to come with him. He couldn't bear to go if she didn't go with him.

"What?" she asked, looking at him with disbelief. "But…what about me? I'd need a job, a visa. And a plane ticket. How would I pay rent?"

"You can live with me; I get a stipend for teaching and they pay for my housing."

"I…I'd need a job. And I don't mean working in a shop, I mean something I want to be doing, something in my field." She set her plate down. "I just don't think it's possible."

"We'll find something," he said, trying hard not to see her reply as a rejection. "But I want you to come with me. I _need_ you to come with me." He set his plate down and pulled her into his lap, kissing her deeply. "Say you'll come."

"I'll think about it, yeah?" Her fingers swept over his sideburns. "I hate the thought of leaving you, but I just don't know what we'd do for money. We can't live on love."

"Maybe not, but in the meantime we can practice." He picked her up and she yelped in surprise, giggling madly as he carried her to the bedroom. He tossed her on the bed and she landed in a heap, laughing as she took off her jumper. She was wearing one of her expensive French bras, ivory silk and black lace, one of his favorites. He grinned and pulled off his own tee shirt before pushing her back onto the bed and undoing the button of her jeans.

"I love undressing you," he said, leaving a deep red mark next to her navel. "It's like unwrapping a present. What kind of knickers does Rose have on today?" He slid the trousers down her legs and grinned when he saw the scrap of ivory silk edged in black lace. With a cheeky smile she opened her thighs and watched as his grin got wider.

"Crotchless knickers? You naughty girl," he said as he reclined next to her, his fingers trailing up her thighs. "Have you been wearing these all day?"

"May have been," she replied, sighing in pleasure as his finger ghosted across her clit.

"Almost like you knew I'd see them," he replied, sliding one finger into her warmth. "Like you were expecting that I'd want to make love to you tonight."

Rose laughed. "You always want to."

"And why not? I love you." He kissed her deeply, adding a second finger which made her moan. "I think this weekend we should stay in and do some of those things you like me to talk about."

"Yeah?" she asked, her own hands working the button of his trousers. "Like what?"

"Oh, I dunno," he replied, gasping as her hand delved beneath his trousers and pants to grasp him. "How about the one where I watch you get yourself off?"

"Hmm. Could do." She squeezed gently, laughing when he gasped. "Oh, just take them off already."

He quickly undressed and reclined next to her once again, and this time she threw one of her legs over his hip, his cock gently brushing against her wetness. "Or maybe the one where I tie you to the bed and lick jam off your body. Or the one where I spend all day with my mouth between your thighs." He lifted her leg up and his cock hit her clit, causing her hips to buck against him. "Or how about one day where you do nothing but walk around in your naughty knickers and let me take you when and where I please."

"We could go to where I bought said naughty knickers," she replied, easing the head of his cock into her opening. "And you can pick out all sorts of naughty things for me to wear."

In one swift move he had her on her back and was fully inside of her, grinning at her look of surprise before he leaned over and kissed her deeply, trying to convey everything he felt for her without using words. "I love you," he said, resting his forehead against hers, the words nowhere near adequate enough to express how much he loved her, needed her. "Please come with me. Say you will." He knew he sounded like he was begging, and he didn't care. He _needed_ her, desperately.

"I love you," she replied, kissing him softly. "And I will consider it."

Later that evening, she was awakened by the sound of John typing on his laptop. She found him in the living room, the light from the screen reflecting off his glasses. He quickly shut the computer and walked over to her, kissing her softly before leading her back to bed. She forgot all about what he had been doing as she drifted back to sleep with his arms wrapped tightly around her.

* * *

Three weeks before Christmas, and Rose was ready to be done with school. She was swamped with work, and many nights she fell into bed, exhausted. Martha had teased her about too many late nights shagging, but in reality it was too many nights up late reading and writing. John was faring no better, having to TA two classes in addition to some coursework of his own. Finally they managed to find an evening when neither of them was swamped, only to barely make it through dinner before passing out in John's bed.

At two in the morning a phone rang, and Rose reached out to the bedside table and blindly groped until she found the offending device. Without so much as opening her eyes she answered it, only to be surprised by the voice on the other end.

"Donna?" she asked, stifling a yawn. "It's two in the morning. Why are you calling?"

"I think the real question is why you're answering my brother's phone at two in the morning."

Rose winced. "What's going on?"

"Gramps is in hospital." Rose immediately nudged John, who mumbled incoherently and rolled over. She poked him hard in the side, and with a yelp he sat up.

Silently, Rose handed him the phone and began to get dressed, pulling on her discarded clothes from the evening before. She shoved the few clothes she kept at John's flat into her rucksack, then pulled out his duffel and began to throw clothes in for him.

"Is he okay?" Rose asked as John set the phone down and began to pull on his own discarded clothes.

"Not sure yet."

"What happened?"

"Jackie found him passed out in the kitchen." John looked at Rose, biting his lower lip. "My mum went to the cinema with some friends, so Jackie went to take him tea. Found him on the floor. Couldn't reach my mum, and she didn't have her phone to call Donna."

Rose pulled him into her arms, rubbing circles on his back as he began to cry. "He'll be fine. Wilf's a tough nut, gonna take more than a bump on the head to get rid of him." She pulled back and kissed his forehead. "Come on, let's get a move on. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there."

The drive from Cardiff to London took less time than normal due to both the early hour and John's speeding. They arrived at the hospital just before sunrise and found Donna waiting for them outside, smoking a fag. She tossed it when she saw them walking towards her.

"How is he?" John asked.

"Still running tests." Donna sniffled a bit. "He's breathing on his own, which is good. Concussion, but they don't want to give him anything until they figure out what caused him to pass out." She looked at her brother and he moved to her, wrapping his arms around her. "He has to be okay."

"He will be, Donna." He hugged his sister tightly. "Gramps is a fighter."

After a moment Donna pulled back. "Go on up, Mum's waiting for you. We're gonna pop to the loo." Rose nodded her assent, and he gave her a chaste kiss before heading to the elevators.

Donna pulled Rose into the ladies room. "Spill it."

"What?" Rose asked, feigning ignorance.

"Don't you play innocent with me, missy. I've known you your entire life and I can read you like a book." Donna pointed her finger at Rose accusingly. "How long have you been shagging my brother?"

Rose shrugged. "Shagging? Maybe a month. We've been together awhile, though…since early September."

"Did he tell you he loves you?"

"Yeah," she replied, blushing.

"Okay, good." Donna rifled around in her purse, pulling out a hairbrush and a bottle of foundation. "Now, you brush your hair while I work on covering up that hickey on your neck. No need to scandalize the old folks." Donna went to work. "You going to stay with us, or is my brother going to sneak into your room every night and shag you in your childhood bed?"

"No idea, we didn't think that far ahead." Rose smacked Donna's hand away and finished applying the makeup herself. "Not exactly like I wanted to ask about sleeping arrangements when we're breaking land speed laws to get here."

"True."

"He asked me to go to America with him." Rose washed the makeup off her hands.

"And?"

"I don't know. I'd need a job, and I don't want to work in a shop." She shrugged. "I want to go, but I just don't know if it's possible."

"You're going to give up now?" Donna was incredulous. "If you were my brother, I'd thump you. You're not giving up, no. You're going to America if we have to sell one of your kidneys to get you there."

Rose laughed. "Gee, thanks. Can we go upstairs now, or do I look like a wanton harlot still?"

"You're fine." Donna led the way to the elevators, fidgeting nervously as they waited.

Rose took her hand and squeezed it, and Donna flashed her a grateful smile.

* * *

It wasn't until close to noon that the doctor came back with an official diagnosis: low blood pressure, easily treated, common in people over 65. Wilf would stay in hospital until they were sure his concussion was healing and his meds were working well. He was still sleeping, so Jackie and Sylvia sent everyone home to get some rest with the assurance that they'd call when Wilf woke up.

John drove himself and Rose back to Jackie's, and they dragged their bags up to Rose's bedroom. John dropped the bags unceremoniously in the middle of the floor and collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion finally overtaking him.

Rose toed off her trainers and shimmied out of her jeans. "Budge up," she said, smacking his leg.

"Can't move. Too tired." Rose pulled his trainers off and he whined in protest. "Sleeping."

"Yeah, and this is my bed." With a mighty shove she rolled him over and crawled under the covers.

With a resigned sigh, John stood up and took of his jumper and trousers, sliding into the bed next to her and wrapping his arms around her. "Love you."

Several hours later, Jackie found them curled up together, both still sound asleep. Gently she shook Rose, who opened her eyes with a soft grunt.

"Mum?"

"Wilf's awake. I made you some tea and some sandwiches, come down and eat."

Rose nodded. "You okay with John staying here?"

Jackie gave her a look. "Bit late to be asking." Rose flushed, and Jackie smiled at her. "It's fine, love. Come down and eat."

Jackie left, and Rose rolled over and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled at her, pulling her in for a deeper kiss as his hand wandered up her bare thigh.

"Not now," Rose replied with a laugh. "Wilf is up and Mum made us some lunch."

Undeterred, he slipped a hand under her shirt instead, palming her breast. "Not hungry for tea," he replied, pinching her nipple. His stomach growled loudly and she laughed, removing his hand from her breast.

"Sounds like your stomach disagrees." She stood up and put her jeans back on, laughing again when he pouted at her. "Oh, look at you, the Oncoming Sulk."

"Quiet, you." With a yawn he stood and put his trousers on. "You better make it up to me later."

"We'll see."

After tea, they went back to the hospital to find Wilf awake and looking good. His face lit up when he saw John and Rose.

"Hello love," he said to Rose, who leaned in and gave him a kiss. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see you." Rose gave him a stern look. "No more hospitals, you got it? I don't fancy having to come visit you in hospital again." Wilf saluted, and she grinned. "Also, Donna will kill you."

"Oh don't I know it. She's already given me an earful today." Wilf grinned at John, who laughed. "Am I gonna get a lecture from you too, sonny Jim?"

"Nah, I let Donna do the threatening for both of us." John pulled a package of Cadbury Buttons out of his pocket and tossed them to Wilf, who laughed "Hide those, and if you tell on me, I'll not bring you any more."

"Your mother is fit to be tied," Wilf said. "When the doctor told her I needed more salt in my diet, I thought she was going to have an attack. Been saying for years her food is bland as wallpaper paste."

John burst out into a loud laugh. "I'm sure that went over well."

"Oh, well, you know your mother." Wilf sighed. "Can you two spring me from this place? I feel fine, I want to go home."

"Sorry, no can do, Gramps. Tomorrow maybe, the doctor said." John patted his hand. "But if you want me to sneak you in some edible food, you call me and let me know."

Wilf laughed. "It's better here than your mother's cooking."

"That's not saying much." John looked at his watch. "Doctor said not to stay too long, so we're gonna go. We'll be back later."

Wilf kissed Rose again. "Bring this pretty girl with you, gives me something nice to look at."

"Oh stop," Rose said, flushing. "Sweet talker. You get your rest."

"Yes, ma'am." Rose turned to leave, and Wilf gave John a thumbs-up.

* * *

When they arrived back at the house, Jackie had left them a note: she was going to see Wilf, then to the bank and the market, she'd be home around 9. John checked his watch-it was only half five-before grabbing Rose and pressing her up against the nearest surface and snogging her breathless.

"Three and a half hours," he said, grinding his hips against hers. "We can do it at least twice before Jackie gets home."

"You horny bastard," Rose laughed. "Is that all you think about?"

"No," John replied, tugging the zip of her hoodie down and rucking her vest up over her breasts. "I think about lots of things. Genius, me." He looked at her and grinned. "But mostly I think about how much I love you. And sex with you. And how much I love making love to you"

His hands scrabbled at the closure of her bra, and she pushed him off of her and stood up. "Upstairs."

They practically sprinted up the stairs, and by the time they had reached Rose's bedroom John had his shirt off and was working on his trousers. Rose slammed the door and locked it before shucking her own shirts and toeing off her trainers. John stripped down to his pants and waited for her on the bed, watching with rapt attention as she shimmied out of her jeans and tossed her bra aside before joining him on the bed.

Their mouths met in a heated kiss as his hands went to her breasts, pinching her nipples until they were stiff peaks. He leaned down to take one into his mouth, pushing her back into the mattress. "Your breasts are magnificent," he said, his mouth full of said breast. Rose giggled, and he gave one last, hard suck before releasing it with a soft _pop_. "No, really," he said, gently squeezing her other breast. "Wonder if I could make you come just from this."

"Later, yeah?" she replied, reaching for the waist of his pants and pouting when he moved away. "Bit of a time crunch here."

"True." He bent down and bit her nipple gently before placing his mouth on the side of her breast and sucking hard, leaving a vibrant purple mark. "This one's my favorite."

Rose had to laugh. "You have a favorite?"

"Course I do." He leaned down again and sucked at the mark, making it even darker. "This one is just a wee bit bigger. And I like to hold it when I sleep." He wrapped his hand around it and grinned at her. "See? Perfect fit for my hand."

She rolled her eyes. "You're a nutter."

"Yes, but I'm your nutter." He kissed his way down her sternum, gently biting the skin around her navel and making her giggle. "I'm gonna take these off," he said, picking up the waist of her knickers with his teeth and releasing them with a _snap_, "and then I'm gonna spend at least twenty minutes with my face between your legs," he placed an open-mouthed kiss on her clit through her knickers, causing her to groan, "and then I'm gonna shag you in your childhood bed."

"Less talking, more shagging," she replied, having had enough of the talking. She sat up just enough to reach under the waist of his pants and grip him. "You keep running your gob we won't get to round two. So, less of your gob talking and more of your gob between my legs, yeah?"

He quickly divested them both of their remaining clothes and settled between her legs, one hand under her hip while the other gently stroked her sex. He ran his tongue from bottom to top, sucking and licking at her swollen clit until her legs began to tremble. "You taste divine," he said, plunging two fingers into her heat as his tongue resumed its circles around her nub. A moment later she was bucking wildly into his mouth, her wetness covering his fingers as she clenched around him.

Grinning, he pulled away from her, licking his fingers in a way Rose found incredibly sexy. The look on his face was almost enough to make her come again. Instead she sat up and met him halfway, licking her wetness off his lips as her hand stroked his throbbing cock. She shifted onto her knees and pushed him back onto the pillows, straddling his hips.

"Touch yourself," he said, his voice raspy with desire. "I want to watch you."

Giving him a coy look from under her lashes, she ran her hands over her breasts, tweaking her nipples as her center ground against his cock. "Like this?" she asked with a grin.

"Lower," he growled.

She moved her hands down to her stomach. "Here?" He gave her a look, and she laughed. "Why don't you show me?"

He took her hand in his and guided it between her legs, using her fingers to gently rub her clit. "Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself," he rasped, moving his hand to better watch her fingers work.

"You, always you," she gasped, plunging two of her fingers inside of herself, grinding down so her thumb was rubbing her clit. "The way your mouth feels on me, how hard you always are for me."

John reached up and began to pinch her nipples. "Did you used to do this when we were younger? Did you lie in bed and finger yourself thinking of me?"

"God yes," she moaned. "I used to think about how your mouth would feel on my breasts, used to imagine you sneaking into my room and undressing me, using your mouth on me. I used to wonder how big your cock was and how good it would feel inside me."

"I wanted to," he said. "I wanted to come up here and lie down with you, touch you. Wanted to see you naked, feel you around me." He reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tenderly stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I love you. Loved you then, love you more now."

She kissed his thumb and smiled at him, bringing the hand out from between her legs and to his mouth, biting her lip as she watched him suck her wetness from her fingers. She leaned over and placed a kiss on his mouth, then one over his heart before taking his length in her hand an easing him inside of her.

He watched, transfixed, as she moved above him, her breasts bobbing gently in time with their movements. He took one of her hands and threaded his fingers through hers, resting the other on her hip. They moved languidly, enjoying the feeling of being one with each other, until John moved his hand from her hip to between her legs. Her muscles clenched around him and he flipped them over with a grin, propping one leg up on his shoulder as he began to move in earnest.

Rose was soon falling apart beneath him, her face and chest flushed with pleasure as her inner muscles clenched him. He came a moment later, words of love falling from his lips.

Spent, he rolled off of her, reaching blindly for the box of tissues on the bedside table and grabbing a handful. He gently wiped away the evidence of their activity before binning the trash and pulling her into his arms.

"I love you," she said softly, tears pricking behind her eyes. She sniffled and John looked down at her, his face a mask of concern.

"Hey, none of that," he said, taking her face in his hands and wiping her tears with his thumb. "Why the tears? Was it horrible?"

Despite her tears, she laughed. "No, it was bloody amazing, you twat. I just…" she gave a shrug. "I love you so much, and sometimes when we…do _this_," she gestured to the space between them, "I just get overwhelmed by how much I love you."

John kissed her tenderly. "I know you think I'm a horny bastard," he said, and she laughed, "but the truth is that it feels like that for me, too." She smiled, and he ran his thumb over her lips. "I've never felt like this before. It's…addicting. I want to feel this way all the time. I do, most of the time, but sometimes when we're making love it's…more."

"Yeah." She kissed him tenderly, and he gently rubbed his nose against hers before kissing her again, this time with more passion. She twined her fingers into his hair and pulled him on top of her, settling him in the cradle of her hips. She was surprised to find him hard against her thigh. "Already?"

"For you? Always." He took himself in hand and gently thrust into her warmth.

Rose clung to him, her shoulders off the pillows as he gently rocked into her, her mouth at his ear whispering sweet nothings. Her orgasm took her by surprise; she hadn't expected to come again, but John's gentle thrusting hit her in just the right spot that sent her eyes rolling back in her head, unable to do anything but let the pleasure wash over her.

John came not long after she did, clinging to her tightly as though he was afraid to let go. He gently lowered her to the bed and made to move off of her, but she stopped him and pulled him down for a kiss.

"Just stay a bit longer," she said. "Inside me. Don't care about the mess. Just stay and hold me."

He peppered her face with kisses, stroking his fingers over every inch of skin he could reach until the time forced them to get up and get dressed. They dressed in silence, and when they were both dressed he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

"I love you, Rose Tyler," he said softly.

"And I love you, John Noble."

* * *

The next morning, Wilf was released from the hospital. After welcoming him home, John and Rose began the drive back to Cardiff. The drive wasn't terribly long or terribly taxing, but Rose found that when they arrived back at John's flat that she was exhausted. She watched some telly while John caught up on his work, and ended up falling asleep.

She woke when she felt hands at the button of her jeans. "Gimme five minutes," she said, swatting his hands away.

John chuckled. "And I'm the one with the one track mind?" he quipped as he slid her jeans off her legs and pulled the covers of the bed over her. "Says the girl who thinks I'm trying to shag her at every opportunity."

"I'm not always wrong." Her voice was muffled by the pillow, but John managed to make out what she was saying.

"But you're also not always right." He dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "I'll be in soon."

She grunted in reply.

Walking back out to the living room, he pulled up his email and smiled. Just before they'd left for London, he had emailed the professor in the States about finding a job for Rose, hopefully in publishing or editing. Dr. Myers had responded quickly, as his wife worked for the publishing house of a neighboring university, with a job offer for Rose. It was only part-time, and the pay wasn't much, but if the chief copy editor liked Rose there was a better than good chance that the job could become full-time.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

The airline ticket he'd bought for her had arrived while they were gone; he'd hidden it under a stack of papers he had yet to grade, knowing she never touched his work. Now he took it out and looked at it, hoping that Rose wouldn't see it as charity; he simply could not imagine going to America and living there without her.

John printed the email out and rose, taking the airline ticket with him. He tucked both into an envelope and slid it into a desk drawer before heading back to the bedroom.

Quietly, he stripped down to his pants and crawled into the bed next to Rose, smiling when she rolled over and threw a leg and an arm across him. Sleepily, she nuzzled his shoulder, causing him to shiver.

"Was that a good shiver or a bad shiver?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

"Good," he replied.

She smiled. "Mmm. I like it when you good shiver." Under the covers her hand moved down his stomach to his pants, then under the waistband.

"You need your sleep," he protested, moving her hand out of his pants. She pouted, and he sucked her plump bottom lip into his mouth. "Tomorrow, after we're rested, I'll be more than happy to shag you until you can't walk, but tonight you need to sleep."

"Oh all right," she sighed, rolling over and pulling his arm around her. His hand settled on her breast and she laughed. "Still your favorite?"

"Yep," he replied, popping the 'p.' Giggling, she wiggled her bum against him and he groaned. "Oi! Cut it out."

"Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" She wriggled and writhed, finally holding up her knickers triumphantly. She tossed them over the side of the bed and reached behind her to yank his pants down.

Resigned, John took his pants off and brought her leg over his, his cock sliding through the wetness of her sex and bumping her clit. She gasped and shifted, gasping again as the swollen head bumped her sensitive nub. Taking himself in hand he eased his cock into her, and she sighed as her head lolled back.

He moved slowly, his movements gentle, reaching one hand around her to play with her clit. She moaned and ground into him, urging him to move faster, harder.

John flipped her onto her stomach, raising her hips to his and thrusting roughly. Rose braced herself on her hands and knees, then brought one hand to where they were joined and circled the base of his cock. He thrust sharply and she gasped, arching her back. She rubbed her clit, her fingers moving furiously, and a moment later she was moaning and thrusting against him as hard as she could as she rode out her orgasm.

She looked at him over her shoulder, giving him a coy look as she slipped one wet finger into her mouth. He moaned and thrust harder and faster, feeling his own orgasm building low in his stomach. Rose reached down and pleasured herself again, and this time they came together, their mingled sounds of ecstasy echoing in the quiet room.

Rose collapsed onto the pillows, breathing heavily. "Now that was a shag." She reached over to where he lay beside her and stroked his cheek. "I love making love with you, but sometimes a girl just needs a good, hard shag."

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied, pulling her close. "Now can we sleep, please?"

"Yes." She kissed him softly. "I love you."


	10. First Christmas Together

They decided to exchange Christmas gifts in Cardiff, even though they'd be traveling back to London together and sleeping in Rose's old bedroom. It was their first Christmas together, and while they'd be with their families on the actual holiday, they wanted to have a day just for themselves.

After a morning of laundry and packing, they finally sat down on the sofa together, ready to exchange gifts. "You first," Rose said, handing him a large, somewhat heavy box.

Grinning, he tore into it, and gave her a grin when he finally got the paper off. "A home planetarium. That's brilliant!" He leaned in and kissed her.

"I wanted to get you a telescope," she said, "but then I thought about it and you probably wouldn't have very good luck getting it to America in one piece. But this you can."

"And," he said, giving her a lascivious grin, "now I can make love to you under the stars whenever I want."

Rose rolled her eyes, secretly pleased at how much he seemed to enjoy her gift.

"Speaking of America," he said, handing her a slim envelope.

Rose gave him a confused look as she opened the envelope, then looked at him in such a way that he was not sure if he was in trouble or not. "This is a plane ticket."

"Yes."

"And a job offer?" she said. "You just went ahead and booked me on a flight to the US and found me a job without asking me?"

_Not good_, he thought to himself. "I want you to come with me," he offered lamely, knowing it was a feeble explanation.

"Yes, so you've said," she replied. "But to just go ahead and do this without asking me…" she trailed off, sighing. "I appreciate the sentiment. I do. But if I decide to go with you, I will pay my own way and find my own job."

"Why?" he asked, his voice teetering on the verge of whinging. "You were worried about paying for a flight, so I paid for you. You were worried about finding a job, so I asked around and found something for you. _For you_, Rose."

"Yes," she replied, her voice rising, "so that I could go with _you_ to America, so _you_ could get your doctorate and continue _your_ career! In the end, it's not about what I want, it's about what _you _want."

"You're complaining because I want you to come and live with me in America?" he asked, confused. "Why is that bad? We spent years-_years_, Rose!-staying as far apart as we could, and now that we're finally _together_ you don't want to stay that way?"

"I didn't say that!" Rose searched for the right words. "I want to go with you, John. I want nothing more than to go with you. But I want to do it on _my_ terms. If I take this plane ticket, I will always feel like I owe you something." She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "I love you. But I can't accept this."

"You are so stubborn," he said. Frustrated and feeling rejected, he stood up and walked away from her. "I need you to come with me, Rose, you don't understand. If you don't go, I won't."

"No! Don't say that!" She was crying now, angry tears streaming down her face. "Don't you try and pin this on me. I am not responsible for whether or not you go."

"You said you wanted to come with me," his voice was low, filled with anger. "I make it so that you can, and you refuse." He looked at her, his eyes dark. "I can't go without you. I spent too long without you to walk away from you now." He ran a hand through his hair before grabbing his keys and heading for the door. "I'm going for a walk." The door slammed behind him.

Rose sat back on the couch, crying. Was she wrong? Suppose he was serious and wouldn't go without her. She would always feel like she crushed his dreams. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Donna, who thankfully picked up on the first ring.

Donna, as usual, was succinct. "You twat."

Rose sniffled. "Do you at least see where I am coming from?"

"Yes, but it's nothing but your stupid pride." Donna's voice was bordering on angry. "It was a gift, Rose. Given freely. He doesn't want to be without you, and you just threw it back in his face."

She sniffled again, tears stinging behind her eyes. "I didn't mean to."

"But you did. You've hurt his ego and his feelings. How would you feel if the situation were reversed?"

Rose sighed. "Angry. Hurt."

"Exactly." Donna sighed. "You know I love you like a sister, but my God you are a right pain in the arse at times."

"So what do I do? How do I fix this?"

"First of all, you apologize. Then you accept the gift graciously. After that you'll probably shag or something, but I don't want to dwell on that, I just ate." Rose giggled, imagining the face Donna was pulling. "Just…apologize."

Taking Donna's advice to heart, Rose waited patiently for John to return. Just as she'd given up hope she heard his key in the lock, and she sprung up to fling the door to the flat open.

"I'm sorry," Rose said without any pretense. "I was horrible to you and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

John shut the door behind him and pulled Rose into his arms. "No, you were right. I shouldn't have assumed that I knew what was best for you."

Rose looked up at him, confused and a little afraid. "Did you change your mind? About wanting me to come with you?"

"No," he laughed. "That won't be changing, I promise."

"Good, because I'm going to go. I'll go to America with you."

John was confused. "But…"

"I was stupid and I just didn't stop to think how my reaction would make you feel. I was being selfish." Rose stood on tiptoe and placed a chaste kiss on his mouth. "And I couldn't live with myself if you didn't go because I refused your gift. I'd spend the rest of my life feeling like a horrible, selfish cow. So I'll go. You an' me, big American adventure, yeah?"

"Yeah." He leaned over and kissed her tenderly. "I love you."

"Even though I'm a pain in the arse?" she teased.

He grinned. "But you're a beautiful pain in my arse." He kissed her again, chastely, before he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her to the bedroom. He gently lay her on the bed and kissed her again, this time with more passion. "We just had a fight."

"We did," she replied with a grin of her own.

"Does that make this make-up sex?" he asked, pulling her jumper off and tossing it aside.

"I think it does." Rose began unfastening his jeans. Grinning, he pulled his own shirt off and toed off his shoes as Rose slid his jeans and pants down his legs. She gave his cock a gentle kiss before standing up to remove her own clothes, then gave him a gentle shove onto the bed. Obligingly, John moved up the bed and sat, watching her with naked desire.

Crawling on her knees, she straddled his legs and kissed him hungrily, her hands tangling in his hair. He ran his hands down her sides, grabbing and squeezing her bum, pulling her closer. She felt his erection pressing between her legs and slowly moved her hips to create friction against her clit.

John kissed his way down her neck to her chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and biting gently as Rose rubbed herself against him. "I love you," she whispered to him, shuddering with pleasure as his cock grazed her opening. "I'm never gonna leave you."

He released her nipple and kissed his way back to her mouth, the slide of his tongue against hers mimicking the movements of Rose rubbing herself against him. She moaned into his mouth as he began to move his hips counter to hers, and he took his cock in hand and moved it to her opening, thrusting into her.

Rose gasped, breaking their kiss but never missing a beat with her hips. She rested her forehead against his, looking deep into his eyes as their bodies moved in tandem. "Make me come," she whispered to him, "make me scream." He leaned in to kiss her once again, and moved his hand from her arse to between her legs. He touched her swollen nub and she moved faster, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm building deep inside.

John felt her inner walls begin to flutter and increased the pressure on her clit, then bent his head to suck a her nipple into his mouth. When he bit down gently she exploded around him, beautiful and filthy words spilling from her mouth as her body rode wave after wave of pleasure.

He continued to play with her clit as she came, and moments later he felt a second orgasm grip her as her inner walls clamped down on him, triggering his own release. When Rose finally collapsed against him in a sweaty heap, he removed his fingers from her and licked them, causing her to groan again.

"We should fight more often," she quipped, snuggling down into his chest.

"Thank you kindly but no," he replied. "Let's not fight again. That was miserable."

"But the making up was bloody fantastic," Rose replied with a grin.

"True," he conceded. "Still, let's not do that again soon. I hate fighting with you." He looked down at her and tenderly swept his thumb across her cheek. "You'll really come with me?"

"Yeah. If you still want me to."

"Of course I do." John leaned down and gave her a sweet, lingering kiss. "Wouldn't go without you."

"Really?"

"Really." His stomach rumbled loudly, and Rose laughed. "Come on, let's eat. Long drive in the morning."

* * *

They arrived in London around tea time, having spent the better part of the day in the car. Between a lorry accident and construction, a normally three hour trip had taken close to six. Jackie had left them a note: she was over at Mo's house for dinner and cards, she'd left them sandwiches for tea.

They'd barely made it up the stairs with their bags when John unceremoniously dropped his bag and pressed Rose up against the wall, sliding one knee between her legs as he kissed her passionately.

"Well then," Rose said with a grin. "Guess I know what you want to do this evening."

"Was there a question?" he replied, helping her remove her jumper.

"Well yeah." She tugged his shirt out of his trousers and began to unbutton it. "If Mum was home, well…we'd have to find something else to do. Don't fancy shagging you while my mum's around."

John imagined the slap he'd get from Jackie, and nodded. "Yes. Good plan. No shagging when Jackie's home." He tossed his shirt and vest and began to work on his trousers.

Rose took off her shoes and socks, then turned around to remove her jeans, making sure he got a good view of her bum wiggling back and forth. She peered over her shoulder to see him standing there in his pants, grinning like an idiot. "See something you like?"

"Oh yes." He reached forward and pinched her bum, making her squeal. "You have a fantastic bum."

"Do I now?"

Before Rose could blink John had picked her up and deposited her on the bed, flipping her on her stomach to gently bite her bum through her knickers. She squealed again, laughing and smacking his head until he sat up, setting her free.

"Oi!" she huffed, laughing still. "Wanker."

"Not lately." He gave her a cheeky grin, and she laughed harder. "What? It's true."

"Thanks for the information," she lay back on the bed, an ache in her side from laughing.

He flopped down next to her, nipping at her shoulder, then her neck. "I love it when you laugh."

"Good thing you make me laugh on a regular basis then." She leaned over and kissed him, lightly at first, then more deeply, reaching down and grabbing his hand, placing it on her breast. He immediately began to knead it, then he pulled back and hopped off the bed. "What?"

He pulled his shirt on. "Back in a tick."

Rose heard him go downstairs, and she lay back and wait for him, wondering what on Earth he was doing. He returned a moment later with a glass of ice and a wicked smile. He shucked his shirt and crawled up on the bed, setting the glass down on the bedside table and pulling a piece out, sucking it into his mouth.

Rose shivered just watching him. He ducked his head between her breasts and dragged the piece of ice down between them, reaching behind her to remove her bra. He then moved to one of her nipples, circling it with the piece of ice in his mouth, chuckling when she shivered again. He reached up to place the palm of one hand on the icy nipple, and the warmth of his palm felt like fire and made her groan.

Giving her a cocky grin, he pulled what was left of the ice cube into his mouth and chewed on it as he drew her knickers down her legs. "Like that, do you?" John reached for the glass and pulled out another ice cube, this time using his hands to hold the ice. He drew circles around her nipples, then drew the ice cube down between her breasts to her navel, dipping the cube into it briefly and laughing when she squealed. He lay down between her legs and drew the ice cube up through her folds, then replaced it with the heat of his tongue. He kept doing that, the cold and the heat driving her mad with want, until she finally grabbed his hair and yanked on it.

John laughed, shedding his pants and tossing them aside before laying back down on top of Rose and giving her nipple a warm kiss. Rose sighed and thrust her hips, her wetness rubbing against his cock, making him moan. Sensing his vulnerability, she flipped him onto his back with a grin.

"You minx," he gasped as she straddled his chest, her bum in his face. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, giving him a wink before she took the head of his cock in her mouth, gently sucking on it. He groaned again, grabbing her hips and tugging her gently backwards to bury his tongue in her.

Rose swirled her tongue around the head before taking as much of him as she could in her mouth. He responded by thrusting two fingers into her while his tongue danced around her swollen nub. For several minutes the only sound in the room was that of their heavy breathing, but when he sucked her clit into his mouth she released him with a soft _pop_ and moaned loudly, her hips bucking. When he removed his fingers she whimpered, quickly turning herself around and sinking down on his length.

John watched, mesmerized by the sight of her breasts bouncing as she rode him, seeking release. He reached one hand up to pinch her nipple and thrust sharply upward, and was rewarded when he felt her inner muscles clench around him. He brought his hand between her legs and rubbed her clit, and she cried out sharply as her orgasm overtook her. Flipping them over, he pounded into her, prolonging her orgasm and triggering his own, their cries of mutual pleasure echoing in the room.

He kissed her tenderly, before getting up and getting dressed. "I'm gonna go see what kind of sandwiches Jackie left us. I dunno about you, but I'm starved."

Rose gave him a mock exasperated look. "Sex and food, you men are all the same."

"Oi!" He feigned a hurt look. "You love me."

Rose laughed and got up, getting dressed. "It's a good thing, too."

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her, his face serious. "Best thing to ever happen to me."

Rose blushed, then kissed him softly. "Let's eat."

* * *

John awoke in the middle of the night to find Rose's side of the bed cold. He tugged on a pair of flannel pants and a vest and headed downstairs. He found her in the kitchen, making tea.

"You okay?" he asked, stepping behind her to kiss her neck.

"Yeah. Couldn't sleep." She turned to him. "Tea?"

"Sure." He sat down at the table and watched her. Dressed in his discarded oxford, hair mussed from sex and sleep, the thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She brought him a cup and sat in his lap, burying her face in his neck. "What's the matter?"

"I just…I'm kind of scared. About going to America, I mean." She gave a soft sigh. "It's so far, and it's for a lot longer than one school term."

John felt his heart start to race in panic. "Do you…not want to come with me?"

"No!" She looked at him. "I do. I want to go. Just kinda scary is all."

"Since when is Rose Tyler scared of anything?" he teased, sipping his tea.

"I'm scared of spiders," she replied, "and clowns. And of Donna when she's mad."

"That last one is a given." John gently stroked her cheek. "I'll be with you, holding your hand the whole time."

Rose smiled. "Always could do anything if you were holding my hand."

"Remember how scared you were on the first day of school?" he asked. "You looked like someone who was going to their own execution."

"And you took my hand," she said, slipping her hand into his and entwining their fingers, "and told me it was going to be okay, and if I needed you to come and find you."

"And it was. So believe me when I tell you that it'll be okay. We'll have to get used to all sorts of things, like TV instead of telly, and french fries instead of chips."

Rose smiled. "Elevators and not lifts, watching baseball and not footie."

"Funny accents, funny currency, horrible lager."

She laughed. "Rubbish tea."

"And they drive on the wrong side of the road." John kissed her and stood up, Rose still in his arms. "But I think we'll manage, don't you?"

"Yes, and where are you taking me?"

"I suddenly don't feel like tea." He carried her upstairs and lay her in the bed. "But what I do feel like is laying here, with you in my arms, and forgetting that the rest of the world exists." He kissed her softly and lay down next to her, resting his head on her chest and letting the beat of her heart lull him to sleep.

* * *

"There's himself," Wilf said as John and Rose walked into the kitchen at Sylvia's house. He enveloped Rose in a warm hug. "He treating you okay?"

"Yeah," Rose replied. "He's almost fully housebroken."

"Oi!" John glowered at her.

Wilf burst into laughter. "Atta girl, Rosie. You show him who's boss. Sit, sit, I've got tea on."

John grabbed a biscuit from one of the cabinets. "Mum around? Wanted me to do something to the computer, says it's not working?"

"She's at work, but you can go right in and start tinkering. Rosie and me will sit here and have a nice chat."

John looked worried, but disappeared upstairs.

Rose offered to help get the tea, but Wilf shooed her away, telling her to sit and get comfy. Knowing better than to argue, she waited until he'd brought her a mug of tea and a plate of biscuits and sat next to her.

"How's Wales, love?" Wilf asked.

"Good!" Rose blew on her tea, cooling it. "Can't believe it's almost graduation."

"You're telling me? I remember when the three of you would run around here in nappies." Wilf laughed. "Soon you'll be having kids of your own."

"Oh, I don't know," Rose said. "Plenty of time left for that. Have you met Donna's boyfriend?"

"Lee? Sure have. Really nice fellow, adores Donna. He's coming for Christmas dinner."

"I'll tell John to be on his best behavior," Rose replied. "No antagonizing his sister."

"But that's what I do best!" a voice called. "It's in my job description as younger brother!"

"Stop eavesdropping!" Rose called back, then rolled her eyes at Wilf. "He's such a pain."

Wilf let out a hearty laugh. "Ah, but you love him anyway."

"That I do, Wilf." Rose flushed deeply.

"When you were sixteen," he said, reaching across the table to take Rose's hand, "he told me he was gonna marry you. He's loved you since you were kids. Had other girlfriends, but he never looked at any of them the way he looks at you. I don't put much stock in that whole business of people being made for each other, but you two just might change my mind."

"Oi! Hands off the merchandise," John said, returning to the kitchen and taking a biscuit. "Get your own pretty girl."

"You're full of tough talk, sonny Jim," Wilf said, winking at Rose. "You fix your mother's computer?"

"Yep," John replied, popping the 'p' as he always did. "Good as new. Anything else while I'm here?"

Wilf gave his grandson a knowing look. "You wanna get your girl alone, eh? Don't think I don't know what you two get up to. I was young once, you know."

Rose flushed and covered her face, while John just laughed. "Never could get one past you, Granddad."

* * *

It was chilly in the basement, but Rose was finding it hard to care at the moment. Sprawled on the large sectional, one leg over the back of the sofa and the other propped on the coffee table, John's mouth working furiously between her legs, the world could have ended and she wouldn't have noticed.

He pulled away, kissing her inner thigh, two fingers replacing where his tongue had just been. "I could do this all day," he said.

"I could let you," she replied with a sigh. "Your tongue is magical."

John laughed. "You only like me for my oral skills."

"No, but they're quite the nice bonus." She sat up on her elbows to look at him. Watching him, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of her, face wet with her arousal, was possibly the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. He gave her a naughty grin as he returned his mouth to her sex, his tongue working at her clit.

She flopped back on the couch, hands in his hair as waves of gentle pleasure rolled over her, building slowly. When she finally came she fell quietly, her soft cries muffled by her hand.

When John sat up, she moved quickly to push him back into the cushions, straddling him as her hand moved up and down his shaft. "Wanna make you come," she said, kissing him fiercely.

"Oh, you won't be able to stop me," he replied with a laugh. "But keep that up and it will be sooner than you think."

Giving him a naughty grin, she increased the speed of her motion, rising up slightly on one knee to drag the head of his cock through her folds as she pumped him. "How about this?" she asked, easing the head of his cock into her opening.

Seeing his chance, John put his hands on her hips and pushed her down on his length, thrusting into her sharply and making her gasp. After several more thrusts he came with her name on his lips.

Rose giggled as his head rolled back, and she licked and sucked her way up his neck. "That was fun."

"Unf." He rolled her onto her back, settling his head between her breasts. "You exhaust me."

She ran her fingers through his tousled hair. "But in the best way."

"Oh yes." He looked up at her. "I wish I could go back and tell sixteen year old me that in a couple of years he'd be shagging you on the regular."

Rose laughed. "I think fifteen year old me wouldn't have believed you."

"Oh, it would make sixteen year old me come on the spot." He rolled a nipple between his fingers, watching it come to attention. "I'd tell him how insatiable you are, how wet you get, how good you taste." He kissed the stiff peak. "I'd tell him how you like it when I bite your nipples, and how you like me to tease you. And how you really like the dirty talk."

She giggled. "Only from you, though. Maybe because I associate you with incessant talking?"

"Oi, rude."

Rose ran a hand through his hair and gently tugged on his ear. "But I love your gob." She sat up, forcing him to sit, and kissed him. "I love everything about you."

"Yeah?" he asked, looking unsure.

"Yeah." She kissed him again. "Love you more than anything."

The sound of a door opening and footsteps above made them stop. "Mum!" Rose jumped off the couch and found her discarded clothes, tossing John's to him as she dressed quickly. She ran a hand through her hair and kissed John quickly before bounding upstairs.

* * *

Christmas morning, Rose woke up bright and early, a sly smile on her face. Beside her John was fast asleep, and she could see his eyes fluttering under the lids. Trying not to make a sound, she slid down under the covers and found the waistband of his pants, sliding them down over his semi-hard cock before bringing her mouth down to it and taking it in her mouth.

In no time he was fully erect, and she was licking and sucking in earnest as he lay there. The only clue she got that he was no longer asleep was his hand in her hair, and when she looked up at him from beneath the sheets she found he had his eyes closed and was struggling to keep quiet.

She increased her suction, teasing her tongue around the swollen head, using her hand to gently stroke his balls. When he gripped her hair she took him entirely into her mouth and he came, hips bucking slightly.

"Happy Christmas," she said as she crawled up his body, gently kissing his mouth.

"I'll say." He was breathing heavily. "Can we do that every Christmas?"

"I think that can be arranged." Rose looked over at her clock. "Gotta get up, help Mum finish stuff to take over for dinner."

John groaned. "Do we have to?"

"Yes." She swatted at him as she got up. "Go on, take a shower and make yourself presentable. We're meeting Donna's boyfriend today." John grinned, and Rose turned and smacked him. "Oh no you don't. Don't you go embarrassing your sister in front of him. You be on your best behavior or no more sex."

"What? That's entirely unfair!"

"It's the only way to make sure you're on your best behavior."

Several hours (and much whinging from John) later, they were seated at the dinner table. Lee, a soft-spoken man with a slight stutter, was most decidedly overwhelmed by Donna's family. Rose tried her best to include him in the conversation, listening patiently and always replying. He was obviously nervous, but it was clear to everyone the he adored Donna, and so he was accepted immediately into the family dynamic.

"So, graduation's coming," Sylvia said to Rose. "Big plans for after?"

"Yes, actually," she replied, blushing furiously. "John's asked me to go to America with him, and I said yes."

The reaction was unanimously one of excitement, although Jackie's excitement was tinged with a bit of sadness. They hadn't been expecting this.

"Does this mean we'll be hearing wedding bells?" Sylvia asked, eyeing her son with curiosity.

John nearly choked on his Yorkshire pudding. "What?"

Rose kicked him under the table. "We haven't discussed it, but I'm pretty sure that's not on the agenda for anytime soon."

John nodded. "It will be discussed at a future date which has yet to be determined."

Later that night, Rose and John were lying in bed, when John said, "Lee's going to propose."

"No!" Rose sat up, squealing with delight. "What! When? Soon?"

"I dunno, he wasn't specific," John replied. "But he did tell me he was planning on asking her and was it okay with me."

Rose squealed again. "Donna's getting married! And he's so sweet, you can tell he just adores her." She was practically bouncing up and down. "Oh, I hope he does it soon."

"You don't want to…I mean, you're not…" John gestured vaguely.

"What?" Rose stared at him for a moment, and then the penny dropped. "Oh! What? Now? No. In the future, yeah, but at the moment? No way."

"Okay, good." John snuggled up against her. "So I suppose a celebratory shag in honor of Donna's impending engagement is out?"

Rose laughed. "Not a chance."

* * *

On New Year's Eve, they met Donna and Lee at a pub in the city to ring in the New Year. Jack showed up with a handsome young Welshman named Ianto, and Donna announced her engagement. Rose and Donna spent the remainder of the evening discussing wedding things, leaving the men on their own to discuss everything else.

By half one, Rose and John were back at Jackie's. John made to go upstairs but Rose grabbed his hand and pulled him down into the basement, a wicked smile on her face. John gave her a grin as she got undressed, revealing her black bra and side-tie knickers.

Rose began unbuttoning his shirt. "Tell me what you want. You want it hard and fast, or long and slow?"

John tossed his shirt aside and began to undo his trousers. "How about both?"

"I think we can do that." She reached into his pants and grasped his hardening cock. In return, he undid the ties on her knickers and dragged his fingers through her folds.

With a coy grin, she bent over the arm of the couch and wiggled her bum. A moment later he was behind her, pushing into her roughly. He gripped her hips tightly, driving into her, one hand reaching around to rub her clit.

"Harder," she gasped. "Fuck me hard, John, as hard as you can."

He slammed into her, his fingers leaving marks on her hips as he bent over and whispered in her ear. "I love it when you talk dirty, those filthy words falling from that pretty mouth." He sucked at a spot on her shoulder, biting harder than usual, leaving a deep purple bruise. "I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk, love bending you over and taking you from behind." His fingers on her clit sped up and she began bucking into him. "Come for me, Rose, come hard, want to feel you come around me."

Her orgasm hit and she cried out, her hips bucking madly and setting off his orgasm. Breathing hard, Rose turned around and kissed him softly before collapsing onto the couch.

Pants and trousers around his ankles, John waddled over to where Rose was sprawled and lay down next to her, using her discarded knickers to clean up their mess. She sighed as he swept the silk through her folds, spreading her legs and raising one eyebrow.

John laughed. "I'm not a machine, give me time to recover."

"You gonna take those off?" she gestured to his trousers and pants. "You look ridiculous with your pants around your ankles."

"Not like I had much of a chance to get them all the way off, if you recall someone was waving her naked bum in my face and begging me to fuck her." Using his feet, he managed to get his pants off and they lay there semi-naked in the darkness, not talking.

Rose trailed her hand back and forth across his chest. "Are we always gonna be like this?"

"Like what, naked? I wish."

Rose giggled. "This…always wanting each other. When I'm old and gray I hope you'll still want me as much as you do now."

"I promise you, I will still want you when you are old and gray."

"I can see us, in the home, shagging like teenagers." Rose ran her hand down between his legs, grasping his soft cock and teasing the head. "We'll be getting in trouble all the time for scandalizing the other residents."

"They'll be jealous," he replied, kissing her shoulder. "Who wouldn't be? We'll be shagging night and day."

"They'll call us sex addicts." She gave him several strokes and grinned madly when he started to harden again under her ministrations. "Try to keep us apart."

"Nah, never happen. Can't keep us apart." He kissed down to her breast, gently licking her nipple. "They'll just find us shagging in closets." His hand moved down between her legs, teasing her and she shifted so that she was straddling his narrow hips. She sank down on his length and leaned over to kiss him deeply.

"I love you," she said, rubbing her nose against his.

John sat up and kissed her again, then began peppering her face with sweet kisses as they made slow, languid love. When Rose at last lay against him, sweaty and sated, he ran his hands through her hair and wished her a happy new year.

She looked up at him with a grin. "I think it's gonna be fantastic."


	11. Adventure

The last half of the school year passed in a blur; in between Rose's thesis, work, and classes, all their days and most of the their nights were spent studying or writing. Rose still managed to spend most nights at John's flat, but so many nights one or both of them fell into bed exhausted, only to get up and do it all again the next day.

The day Rose defended her thesis, she came back to John's flat and slept for 18 hours. When she finally woke up, it was to a sweet note and a bunch of flowers from John, with an apology that he couldn't be there when she woke.

Before either knew it, graduation had come and gone, and Rose was busy packing her belongings. She managed to fit all of her belongings into Jackie's Vauxhall (and part of the boot of John's beat up old Citroen) to haul back to London. She and John had only three weeks to pare down their belongings into two suitcases each for their move across the Atlantic.

"We're going to have to mail some things," Rose said, head in her hands. "We can't fit everything we'll need into two suitcases."

John tossed two pairs of trainers into a large, hard-sided suitcase. "Maybe we can have my mum or Jackie mail us our winter clothes. We won't be needing heavy coats for awhile."

Rose sighed. "And no point in taking my curling iron or hair dryer, I'll have to get new ones." She placed a pile of shirts into one of her large suitcases. "What's the weather like?"

"Right now? Hot. Hotter than here. It'll be chilly come mid-October, and I hear winter is miserable." John examined his clothes, debating which to take and which to mail.

"Great."

"On the plus side, however," he replied, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his lap, "I hear that the fall is just gorgeous, and we can get some excellent seafood."

"Are we gonna get to do any fun stuff, or are you gonna be too busy?" she asked.

"Should be okay…taking three classes, teaching one. Should leave us plenty of time for fun, both in and out of the flat." He kissed her softly. "You still worried about going?"

"Kinda. Not really scared, more…nervous. You're gonna be in class and working, I'm afraid I'm going to get lonely."

"You?" He looked genuinely surprised. "You're the friendliest person I know, Rose. I bet you we're not there two weeks and you'll have more friends than I do."

She laughed. "No, not with your gob. You'll have more friends in a week than I will make in a year."

"Well, I do know one thing."

"What's that?"

"Nothing could be too bad because I'll have my best friend with me."

Rose grinned. "Am I still your best friend?"

"Rose Tyler," he said, looking surprised. "You have to ask?"

"No." She leaned her head on his shoulder. "But it's nice to hear."

"You'll always be my best friend, Rose." John gave her a squeeze. "Always."

* * *

The night before they left, they met Donna, Lee, Jack, and Ianto down at the pub for a farewell pint. It was all Rose could do to keep from crying; she was tired of packing, nervous about the move, and knew she would be sorely missing her friends.

Donna nudged Rose with her shoulder. "What's the matter? You look miserable."

"I'm not, I'm excited," Rose protested. "But I'm nervous."

"What? Nervous about what?"

Rose shrugged. "Dunno, really. I guess being so far away. Who'll look after Mum for me?"

Donna smacked her arm. "Oi, you plum. It's an adventure! And you know Jackie's good at looking after herself."

"I know, I just…it's so far, Donna. And I won't know anyone but John, and I just…it's scary, okay?"

"You dumbo," Donna replied, hugging Rose tightly. "Think of the adventure you'll have! All the things you will see and places you'll go. Places I'll never get to." Donna looked her in the eye. "You go and you have all these adventures for me, you and John, and you come back here and tell me all about them. Besides, you'll be back, you have to come back to be my maid of honor."

"Really?" Rose grinned. "You want me?"

"Who else?"

"If you put me in some awful dress, I'll kill you."

Donna grinned. "I've already found it…big, huge merengue in the most awful shade of green, will make you look horrid."

"Thanks." Rose laughed. "But really, I'm okay. Just kind of nervous is all. Suppose…it doesn't work out? Then what? Stuck in a foreign country all alone…"

"You stop that," Donna said, giving Rose a look that would broach no argument. "You and him are meant to be. I've never seen him like this with anyone else. He's only got eyes for you."

Rose sighed. "I know. It's not him I'm worried about."

"Oi, you worry too much." Donna hugged her friend again. "And if he hurts you, trust me…he won't be welcome back here, at least not by me. But trust me, you've nothing to worry about."

That night, Rose found it difficult to fall asleep. She tossed and turned, trying hard not to disturb John, but finally he cracked an eye and looked over at her. "What's the matter?"

"Can't sleep."

John pulled her into his arms and held her, his hand resting on her bum. "You're scared."

"A bit." She bit her lip and took a deep breath. "Suppose…something happens between us. Then what?"

John sat up and looked at her, his heart pounding with fear. "Why would you say that?"

"I just…I dunno. Suppose it does?"

"It won't." He cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. "I promise you, it won't. When I said you were the last woman I was ever going to be with, I meant it. There's nobody else for me." He gave her a sweet, tender kiss before resting his forehead against hers. "On your sixteenth birthday, I told my Granddad that I was going to marry you one day."

Rose smiled. "I know."

"So why would anything happen between us? Do you doubt me?" He was afraid now, worried that she would change her mind. He wouldn't-_couldn't_-go without her. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No!" She kissed him. "You daft git, I'm not having second thoughts. I'm just…scared. And no, I don't doubt you…I'm doubting _me_."

"Whatever for?" he asked with a laugh. "You're brilliant, Rose Tyler. Bravest woman I know."

"But suppose I'm not enough for you?" she asked, her voice cracking.

John wiped her tears away gently. "Oh Rose, you'll always be enough. And sometimes you'll be too much, but you will never, ever be not enough."

"You don't know that."

"I do. Look at me," he said, and she raised her eyes to meet his. "I love you."

"I know. It's nothing to do with you, I just…it's nerves, okay? I'll be fine once we get there." She leaned in and kissed him softly, then kissed him again, this time slipping her tongue into his mouth. He responded with enthusiasm, trailing his hands down her back to grab her bum.

Rose sighed and rolled onto her back, running her hands through his hair as he kissed her neck. When his hands drifted to her breasts she sat up and took her shirt off, and he responded by leaning over and sucking one nipple into his mouth. With his free hand he began to knead her other breast, rolling and pinching the nipple.

"I love you," he whispered as his mouth burned a trail down to her navel. "Only you, Rose." He slid her knickers down her legs and removed his pants, then covered her body with his, trailing two fingers through her folds. Rose grabbed his hair and pulled him to her, kissing him fiercely, desperately. He responded by thrusting a finger into her wetness, then trailing it up to circle her clit.

She moaned into his mouth, shifting her hips so that his cock was pressed against her. "Inside me," she whispered, "please, need you."

He thrust into her gently, holding her as close to him as he could. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on, whispering words of love in his ear as their bodies moved together. They came simultaneously, clinging desperately to one another, and afterwards John held her close as he stroked her hair.

"I love you," he said.

"And I love you," she replied, finally drifting off to sleep.

* * *

The airport was a hive of activity, and it was all Rose could do to keep up with John as they made their way to the ticket counter. They checked in and checked their bags, and then Jackie, Sylvia, Wilf, and Donna walked with them as far as security.

Rose turned to her mother, who enveloped her in a fierce hug. "No tears, love. It's going to be fine," Jackie said, stroking Rose's hair. "And you can call anytime, but you'll be having too much fun for that." Jackie pulled back and looked Rose in the eye. "You go and have fun, the two of you. And just know we'll always be here for you, yeah?"

Rose nodded and sniffled, determined not to cry. "Love you, Mum."

John, who had said his goodbyes to his family, watched as Rose hugged the others goodbye. He saw Donna surreptitiously wipe a tear from her eyes, and she shot him a look when he laughed. Finally he felt Rose take his hand, and he turned to her. "I'm ready," she said.

They passed through security and walked towards their gate, Rose trying valiantly to hold back tears. John grabbed her arm and stopped walking, putting his hands on her shoulders. "We don't have to do this, Rose. We don't. It's not too late."

"We do," she said, taking a shaky breath. "I'm not gonna let a little bit of nerves prevent us from doing this. We're gonna do this, and it's gonna be great." She looked into his eyes and gave him a watery smile. "As long as you're holding my hand, I can do anything."

John grinned at her. "You're sure?"

"Yeah." She smiled again, this time with more confidence. "Let's do this, yeah?"

He leaned down and kissed her. "Rose Tyler, you are amazing, and I love you."

Rose giggled. "Quite right, too."


	12. Epilogue

**Fall-Year 1**

Their flat is a nice, furnished one bedroom in a decent part of town. Of course, town is really a city of 625,000 people (not including the close suburbs) many of whom are university students, so decent is a relative term. Still, it's cozy and near a good Chinese delivery place and not far from public transport or the university, and it suits them just fine.

There's a lot to get used to; the thick accents, the regional colloquialisms, the subway that's not quite a subway. But some things Rose likes right away, like the history and some of the architecture, and how nice people are. The tea is awful, the waning summer heat is muggy and disgusting, and the town is obsessed with baseball at the moment (they're in first place, whatever that means) but she finds that she doesn't mind any of it nearly as much as she thought she would.

They have two weeks before Rose begins her job at the university's publishing house, so they spend it learning about their new home; which areas to avoid, where to get groceries, the best bar to watch the footie games. They spend one sunny Sunday at a beach where Rose's pink bikini garners her much male attention, much to John's utter dismay. They barely make it back to their flat before John spends the rest of the day and a good part of the evening tracing her tan lines with his tongue.

They spend their first Fourth of July watching fireworks, then making some of their own.

Rose's schedule is such that she works three days a week, proofreading books yet to be published for spelling and grammatical errors. It's not sexy or scintillating, but the pay is decent and she socks her paycheck away every two weeks until there's enough for a flight home at Christmas. The chief copy-editor is a nice, middle-aged British ex-pat woman named Sarah Jane, who takes a shine to Rose immediately. When Rose gets homesick, Sarah Jane invites her and John over for tea and an evening of _Coronation Street_, and those evenings are John's favorites because he knows he's going to get a good meal at Sarah Jane's and a _really_ good shag when they get home. Before long, Sarah Jane is offering her a full time job with benefits, and Rose buys herself some racy knickers and John a good telescope and they celebrate by going camping and shagging under the stars.

John prepares for his classes, spending lots of time in the office that will be his for the next three years, if not more. He meets his colleagues, starts planning lessons and tests and working on his dissertation. Some days it's all work, but some days he does nothing more than horse around in the physics lab with his colleagues who are fast becoming his friends.

The chair of John's department holds a barbecue the weekend before classes start, and once his colleagues meet Rose, they like him even more. Rose is no scientist, but she proves to be a valuable asset during their (now usual) Wednesday night quiz night at the bar, when she is the only one among them who can name all of the Spice Girls; they win by a hair and buy her a fruity drink that comes in a fishbowl and comes with a crazy straw, and when they get back to the flat, Rose and John shag on every available surface and wonder in the morning how on earth they ended up sleeping under the coffee table.

The mugginess of summer fades into fall, with it's brisk mornings and orange-yellow-red leaves. John walks Rose to work in the mornings, and meets her for lunch. After work, she meets him after his classes and they walk home, hand in hand. When it finally gets to be too cold, John has Wilf sell his old Citroen and uses that money to buy a Honda Civic for a song, which is good because John soon needs to replace the clutch and gear box because driving on the wrong side takes some getting used to.

For Columbus Day weekend, he takes her to a bed and breakfast that has amazing blueberry pancakes and a four poster bed that they hate to get out of.

They spend their first Thanksgiving with Sarah Jane and her son Luke, along with several other ex-pats who have no place to go for Thanksgiving. There's American football on the telly and lots of food, and they fall asleep on their sofa while watching old movies. That's when they begin to think of this as home.

* * *

**Winter-Year 1**

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas are a flurry of activity; John has exams to both take and grade, and although they see each other every day, John is cranky and out of sorts and ready for a vacation. Rose has only one week of vacation, so their trip to London will be short, shorter than either would like.

London is London, grey and rainy and Rose thinks it's never been more beautiful. They sleep their jet lag off and then proceed to make up for lost time by shagging anywhere and everywhere, much to Jackie's dismay. She never says anything to them directly, but when she pulls a pair of Rose's knickers out of the silverware drawer in the kitchen, she doesn't have to; several hours later Jackie's kitchen is cleaner than it's ever been and an exhausted John swears they will never shag anywhere but a bed again.

They spend an entire day helping Donna pick out bridesmaids dresses; John whinges mightily until he sees Rose in the first dress, a tea-length halter dress with a deep v-neck, and he nearly chokes on the Jelly Babies he's been eating. Donna vetoes that one, but he maintains his air of disdain while watching Rose try on dress after dress after dress. He thinks she looks good in all of them-hell, she'd look gorgeous in a bin bag-but he's so busy imagining what it would be like to take the dresses off of Rose that he misses the final selection. When he whinges about that, Rose makes it up to him by allowing him to help choose her lingerie. This cheers him immensely.

On a cold and rainy evening when the women are busy with wedding plans, Wilf slips John a small black box. He doesn't need to open it, he knows what's in it; but he opens it anyway and finds himself fighting tears.

"I can't take this," John says, trying to hand the box back to Wilf, who is having none of it.

"You take it and you give it to that girl of yours," he says. "Your Gran never met Rose, but I know how much she'd love her because _you_ love her. It's nothing fancy, didn't have much money back then, but Rose doesn't need big and fancy. She just needs you."

It's a simple round diamond in an elaborate, Art Deco setting. It will look perfect on Rose's slender finger.

A week later they're back in the States, and John formulates a plan. If he does three courses over the summer, he can do three in the fall and sit for his comprehensive exams. In the meantime, he can work on his dissertation and, if all goes according to plan, can have his doctorate in another 18 months. It's a long shot, and it means a lot of work, but it means that two years from now there's a good possibility that he and Rose could be married.

She returns to work and he starts working in earnest on his dissertation. He's been working on it for years, tinkering and tweaking, but now he sets about his research like a man possessed. By the time the new semester starts he's got enough to start writing seriously, so he does.

They celebrate Valentine's Day in their little flat, a blizzard having struck the day before. They eat cold Chinese food and drink hot tea and he showers her with gifts-chocolates, sexy knickers, a pair of pink sapphire earrings that she wears when she shags him senseless later that night.

He keeps the ring in his sock drawer.

* * *

**Spring-Year 1**

She cannot believe it's still this cold in April, she half-expects it to snow again. But one morning she wakes up and can't see her breath in the air, and then spring has arrived and brought the sunshine with it.

John's been working hard, harder than she's ever seen him work. He comes home exhausted and keeps working after they eat, sometimes working long into the night. But the weekends are theirs, and they use their time to see and do things, to drive as far as they can in a day and see what they can find. Sometimes they are pleasantly surprised-tiny towns with quaint little inns, big cities with fancy hotels and room service-and sometimes they end up sleeping in the car in the middle of nowhere. But it's always an adventure, which is really all they want.

John spends Spring Break in the lab and the library, his only concession to vacation being going to bed at a decent hour and having a lie-in. He starts walking Rose to work again instead of driving her, and when the weather cooperates they meet for lunch (and usually a good snog) under an ancient maple tree.

They eat ice creams and watch children play and laugh at the undergraduates who celebrate the end of term by streaking across campus. They celebrate the end of term by splurging on a weekend in Chicago, eating brats and deep-dish pizza and watching the Cubs lose spectacularly.

When Rose misses her period, she cries for a day. When her period comes two weeks later, she cries for a week. John has no idea what's going on-she won't tell him and he's asked time and again-so when she finally blurts out "I thought I was pregnant and I was so scared, and then I wasn't and now it's all I want!" all he can do is hold her, because it's something he didn't know he wanted, either.

* * *

**Summer-Year 1/Fall-Year 2**

John takes summer classes and works on his dissertation, knowing that his hard work will pay off in the end. Since Rose had that pregnancy scare he's been unable to think about anything other than how he wants to marry her and make babies with her, and the sooner he gets this done the sooner he can.

They mark a year in America by having a gigantic row. John is working himself ragged, and Rose doesn't understand why. She feels neglected, like an afterthought, and finally the weight of her emotions is too much and she bursts. She accuses him of becoming distant, of not wanting her anymore, of not loving her anymore; his response is that he is doing this for her, and maybe it was a mistake because clearly it was she who no longer loved him. Bags are packed and doors are slammed, and three days later he finds her at Sarah Jane's and begs her to come home.

After that, he works a little less and dotes on her a little more.

Summer is punctuated by cookouts and trips to the beach and evenings spent outside, watching children splash in open hydrants. They go to baseball games, sitting in the cheap seats, and John explains to Rose the rules and nuances of the game. Before long she's become somewhat of an expert, and the folks in the seats around them have claimed her as one of their own.

They shag. A _lot_.

When August comes around, and the undergraduates have returned to campus, life goes back to normal-work and classes, quiz nights at the bar on Wednesdays and lazy Sunday mornings. Rose gets promoted to assistant copy editor, and with her promotion comes a pay raise. Over Columbus day weekend they go back to the bed and breakfast they went to before, and this time they don't get out of the bed until it's time to check out.

He sits for his comprehensive exams the week before Thanksgiving. When they're over, he sleeps for 18 hours, which is then followed by him eating an entire pizza and watching nothing but _Homicide_ re-runs for an entire day. Rose finds him at 6pm, on the sofa and still in his jimjams, with dried tomato sauce on his shirt and in dire need of a shower and a shave.

They go to Sarah Jane's for Thanksgiving, and this time Rose brings a pie and Luke teaches them about American football. They end the day like they did the year before, asleep on the sofa, hands entwined.

* * *

**Winter-Year 2**

Donna's wedding is a week before Christmas, and Rose spends the week keeping Donna calm. The hen night isn't a total disaster, Donna manages to relax somewhat and when Rose stumbles home at 2am, John holds her hair back while she gets sick and then holds her all night.

Donna's wedding is on a Saturday, and it's freezing cold but thankfully not raining. It goes off without a hitch and soon there is dancing and cake cutting and bouquet throwing and finally, they're alone in a hotel room. He undresses her quickly and makes love to her slowly, and the next morning he asks Jackie for permission to marry her daughter.

He proposes on Christmas Eve, not in a manner that could be considered traditional. Rose is naked and flushed beneath him, panting from her orgasm, when he blurts out, "Marry me, Rose." She bursts out laughing, then laughs harder when she sees the hurt look on his face. He gets up and rummages around in his pockets, finally producing the ring, and her laughter stops as suddenly as it started.

"Marry me," he says again, and this time she's both laughing and crying and when he puts the ring on her finger both of their hands are shaking.

They don't plan on announcing it, but Donna's eagle eye doesn't miss a thing and she screeches like a banshee for a good twenty minutes. There is hugging and crying and cameras are produced and Rose is forced to make up a story of how John proposed because she is not about to tell them the truth. They promise not to elope in Las Vegas.

They fly back to the States before New Year's and ring in the new year in their flat, with champagne and pizza and shagging.

John comes to the realization sometime in February that there's no way he can get his dissertation done by April and have it be any good. His advisor has been telling him for months that it won't work, but after an afternoon of staring at a blank laptop screen, John realizes his advisor was right. A weight has been lifted from his shoulders, so he leaves early and buys Rose a bouquet of flowers and when she gets home she finds him making dinner, the flowers sitting on the table.

And, as it turns out, Rose doesn't care if it takes him another year or another decade, she'll marry him regardless.


End file.
